' 
" 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 


By  CRITTENDEN  M4RRIOTT 


SALLY  CASTLETON, 
SOUTHERNER 

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"A  swiftly  moving,  entertaining  tale 
of  love  and  daring  secret  service  work." 

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THE 
ISLE  OF  DEAD  SHIPS 

Illustrated  by  Frank  McKernan.    $1.00  net. 

"  Chapter  after  chapter  unfolds  new 
and  startling  adventures." 

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J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  CO. 

PUBLISHERS  PHILADELPHIA 


ALAGWA   COMES   TO   THE   COUNCIL  FIRE 


Page  304 


THE  WARD  OF 
TECUMSEH 


BY 

CRITTENDEN  MARRIOTT 

AUTHOR  OF  "SALLY  CABTLETON,  SOUTHERNER,"  "THE  ISLE  OF  DEAD 
SHIPS,"  ETC. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY 

FRANK   McKERNAN 


PHILADELPHIA  &  LONDON 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 

1914 


COPTBIOHT,   1914,    BT   CBITTENDEN   11ARBIOTT 


PUBLISHED   SEPTEMBER,  1914 


PRINTED    BT  1.   B.   UPPINCOTT  COMPANT 

AT  THE  WASHINGTON  SQUARE  PBESS 

PHILADELPHIA,   C.  B.  A. 


I .  /       •  I 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 


ALAGWA  COMES  TO  THE  COUNCIL  FIRE Frontitpiece 

ALAGWA,  BEING  WOUNDED,  is  RESCUED  BY  JACK  TELFAIR.  . .  80 

ALAGWA  SHOOTS  CAPTAIN  BRITO 194 

JACK  TELFAIR  AND  CAPTAIN  BRITO  SETTLE  THEIR  DISPUTE.  .  330 


2136998 


THE  WARD  OF 
TECUMSEH 

CHAPTER  I 

WHEN  the  beautiful  Sally  Habersham  ac- 
cepted Dick  Ogilvie  her  girl  associates 
rejoiced  quite  as  much  as  she  did,  fore- 
seeing the  return  to  their  orbits  of  sundry  tem- 
porarily diverted  masculine  satellites.  Her  mother's 
friends  did  not  exactly  rejoice,  for  Dick  Ogilvie  had 
been  a  great  "  catch"  and  his  capture  was  a  sad 
loss,  but  they  certainly  sighed  with  relief;  for  they 
had  always  felt  that  Sally  Habersham  was  alto- 
gether too  charming  to  be  left  at  large.  About  the 
only  mourners  were  a  score  or  so  of  young  men, 
whose  hearts  sank  like  lead  when  they  heard  the 
news. 

The  young  men  took  the  blow  variedly,  each  ac- 
cording to  his  nature.  One  or  two  made  such  a 
vehement  pretense  of  not  caring  that  everybody  de- 
cided that  they  cared  a  great  deal;  two  or  three 
laughed  at  themselves  in  the  vain  hope  of  prevent- 
ing other  people  from  laughing  at  them;  several 
got  very  drunk,  as  a  gentleman  might  do  without 
disgrace  in  that  year  of  1812;  others  hurriedly  set 

7 


8  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

off  to  join  the  army  of  thirty-five  thousand  men 
that  Congress  had  just  authorized  in  preparation 
for  the  coming  war  with  Great  Britain;  the  rest 
stayed  home  and  moped,  unable  to  tear  themselves 
away  from  the  scene  of  their  discomfiture. 

Of  them  all  none  took  the  blow  harder  than 
Jaqueline  Telfair,  commonly  known  as  Jack.  Jack 
was  just  twenty-one,  and  the  fact  that  he  was  a  full 
year  younger  than  Miss  Habersham,  had  lain  like  a 
blight  over  the  whole  course  of  his  wooing.  In  any 
other  part  of  the  land  he  might  have  concealed  his 
lack  of  years,  for  he  was  unusually  tall  and  broad 
and  strong,  but  he  could  not  do  so  at  his  home 
in  Alabama,  where  everybody  had  known  everything 
about  everybody  for  two  hundred  years  and  more. 
Still,  Jack  hoped  against  hope  and  refused  to  be- 
lieve the  news  until  he  received  it  from  Miss  Haber- 
sham's  own  lips. 

Miss  Habersham,  by  the  way,  was  not  quite  so 
composed  as  she  tried  to  be  when  she  told  him. 
Jack  was  so  big  and  fine  and  looked  at  her  so 
straight  and,  altogether,  was  such  a  lovable  boy  that 
her  heart  throbbed  most  unaccountably  and  before 
she  quite  knew  what  she  was  doing  she  had  leaned 
forward  and  kissed  him  on  the  lips.  "  Good- 
by,  Jack,  dear,"  she  said  softly.  Then,  while  Jack 
stood  petrified,  she  turned  and  fled.  She  did  not 
love  Jack  in  the  least  and  she  did  love  Dick  Ogilvie, 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  9 

but — Oh!  well!  Jack  was  a  gentleman;  he  would 
understand.  • 

Jack  did  understand.  For  a  few  seconds  he  stood 
quite  still ;  then  he  too  walked  away,  white  faced  and 
silent. 

The  next  morning  he  went  out  to  hunt;  that  is, 
he  took  a  light  shot-gun  and  tramped  away  into 
the  half  dozen  square  miles  of  tangled  woodland  that 
lay  at  the  back  of  the  Telfair  barony  along  the 
Tallapoosa  River.  But  as  he  left  his  dog  and  his 
negro  body-servant,  Cato,  at  home,  he  probably 
went  to  be  alone  rather  than  to  kill. 

Spring  was  just  merging  into  summer,  and  the 
sun  spots  were  dancing  in  the  perfumed  air  across 
the  tops  of  the  grasses.  Great  butterflies  were 
flitting  over  the  painted  buttercups  and  ox-eyed 
daisies,  skimming  the  shiny  gossamers  beneath 
which  huge  spiders  lay  in  wait.  From  every  bush 
came  the  twitter  of  nestlings  or  the  wing  flash  of 
busy  bird  parents.  Squirrels,  red  and  gray,  flat- 
tening themselves  against  the  bark,  peered  round 
the  trunks  of  great  trees  with  bright,  suspicious 
eyes.  Molly  cottontails  crouched  beneath  the  grow- 
ing brambles.  Round  about  lay  the  beautiful  wood- 
land, range  after  range  of  cobweb-sheeted  glades 
splashed  with  yellow  light.  Crisp  oaks  and  naked 
beeches,  mingled  with  dark  green  hemlocks  and 
burnished  quivering  pines,  towered  above  bushes  of 


10  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

sumach  and  dogwood,  twined  and  intertwined  with 
swift-growing  dewberry  vines.  From  somewhere  on 
the  right  came  the  sound  of  water  rippling  over  a 
pebbly  bed. 

Abruptly  Jack  halted,  stiffening  like  a  pointer 
pup,  and  leaned  forward,  gun  half  raised,  trying  to 
peer  through  the  sun-soaked  bushes  of  the  moist 
glade.  He  had  heard  no  sound,  seen  nothing  move, 
yet  his  skin  had  roughened  just  as  that  of  a  wild- 
cat roughens  at  the  approach  of  danger.  Instinct — 
the  instinct  of  one  born  and  brought  up  almost 
within  sight  of  the  frontier — told  him  that  some- 
thing dangerous  was  watching  him  from  the  jungly 
undergrowth  before  him.  It  might  be  a  bear  or  a 
wolf  or  a  panther,  for  none  of  these  were  rare  in 
Alabama  in  the  year  1812.  But  Jack  thought  it 
was  something  else. 

He  took  a  step  backward,  cocking  his  gun  as  he 
did  so  and  questing  warily  to  right  and  to  left. 

"  Come  out  of  those  bushes  and  show  yourself," 
he  ordered  sharply. 

From  behind  an  oak  an  Indian  stepped  out,  rais- 
ing his  right  hand,  palm  forward,  as  he  came.  In 
the  hollow  of  his  left  arm  he  carried  a  heavy  rifle. 
Fastened  in  his  scalp  lock  were  feathers  of  the  white- 
headed  eagle,  showing  that  he  was  a  chief. 

"  Necana !  "  he  said.     "  Friend !  " 

Instinctively  Jack  threw  up  his  hand.  "  Necana ! " 
he  echoed.  The  tongue  was  that  of  the  Shawnees. 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  11 

Jack  had  not  heard  it  for  ten  years,  not  since  the 
last  remnant  of  the  Shawnee  tribe  had  left  the  banks 
of  the  Tallapoosa  and  gone  northward  to  join  their 
brethren  on  the  Ohio;  but  at  the  stranger's  greet- 
ing the  almost  forgotten  accents  sprang  to  his  lips. 
"  Necana,"  he  repeated.  "  What  does  my  brother 
here,  far  from  his  own  people?  " 

Wonderingly,  he  stared  at  the  warrior  as  he 
spoke.  The  man  was  a  Shawnee ;  so  much  was  cer- 
tain, but  his  costume  differed  somewhat  from  that 
of  the  Shawnees  to  whom  Jack  had  been  accustomed, 
and  the  intonation  of  his  speech  rang  strange. 
His  moccasins,  the  pouch  that  swung  to  his  braided 
belt,  all  were  foreign.  His  accent,  too,  was  strange. 
Moreover,  though  clearly  a  chief,  he  was  alone  in- 
stead of  being  well  escorted,  as  etiquette  demanded. 
Plainly  he  had  travelled  fast  and  long,  for  his  naked 
limbs  were  lean  and  worn,  mere  skin  and  bone  and 
stringy  muscles.  Hunger  spoke  in  his  deep-set  eyes. 

At  Jack's  words  his  face  lighted  up.  Evidently 
the  sound  of  his  own  tongue  pleased  him.  Across 
his  breast  he  made  a  swift  sign,  then  waited. 

Dazedly  Jack  answered  by  another  sign,  the  an- 
swering sign  learned  long  ago  when  as  a  boy  he  had 
sat  at  a  Shawnee  council  and  had  been  adopted  as 
a  member  of  the  clan  of  the  Panther. 

In  response  the  savage  smiled.  "  I  seek  the  young 
chief  Telfair,"  he  said.  "  He  whom  the  Shawnees 
of  the  south  raised  up  as  Te-pwe  (he  who  speaks 


12  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

with  a  straight  tongue).  Knowest  thou  him, 
brother?  " 

Jack  stared  in  good  earnest.  "  I  am  Jack 
Telfair,"  he  said,  haltingly,  dragging  the  Shawnee 
words  from  his  reluctant  memory.  "  Ten  years  ago 
the  squaw  Methowaka  adopted  me  at  the  council 
fire  of  the  Panther  clan."  He  hesitated.  Ten  years 
had  blurred  his  memory  of  the  ritual  of  the  clan, 
but  he  knew  well  that  it  required  him  to  proffer 
hospitality. 

"  My  brother  is  welcome,"  he  went  on,  stretching 
out  his  hand.  "  Will  he  not  eat  at  the  campfire  of 
my  father  and  rest  a  little  beneath  our  roof  tree?  " 

The  Shawnee  clasped  the  hand  gravely.  "  My 
brother's  words  are  good,"  he  answered.  "  Gladly 
would  I  stop  with  him  if  I  might.  But  I  come  from 
a  far  country  and  I  must  return  quickly.  I  turn 
aside  from  my  errand  to  bring  a  message  and  a 
belt  to  my  brother." 

From  his  pouch  the  chief  drew  a  belt  of  beautiful 
white  wampum.  "  Will  my  brother  listen  ?  "  he 
asked. 

Jack  nodded.    "  Brother !    I  listen,"  he  answered. 

"  It  is  well !  Many  years  ago  a  chief  of  the  elder 
branch  of  my  brother's  house  was  the  friend  of 
Tecumseh.  They  dwelt  in  the  same  cabin  and 
followed  the  same  trails.  They  were  brothers.  Ten 
years  ago  the  white  chief  travelled  the  long  trail 
to  the  land  of  his  fathers.  But  before  he  died  he 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  13 

said  to  Tecumseh :  '  Brother !  To  you  I  leave  my 
one  child.  Care  for  her  as  you  would  your  own. 
Perhaps  in  days  to  come  men  of  my  own  house  may 
seek  her,  saying  that  to  her  belong  much  land  and 
gold.  If  they  come  from  the  south,  from  the  branch 
of  my  house  living  in  Alabama,  at  the  ancient  home 
of  the  Shawnees,  let  her  go  with  them.  But  if  they 
come  from  the  branch  of  my  house  that  dwells  in 
England  do  not  let  her  go.  The  men  of  that  branch, 
the  branch  of  the  chief  Brito,  are  wicked  and  vile, 
men  whose  hearts  are  bad  and  who  speak  with  forked 
tongues.  If  they  come  for  her,  then  do  you  seek 
out  my  brothers  in  the  south  and  tell  them,  that 
they  may  take  her  and  protect  her.  If  they  fail  you 
then  let  her  live  with  you  forever.' 

"  Since  the  chief  died  ten  years  have  passed,  and 
the  maid  has  grown  straight  and  tall  in  the  lodge 
of  Tecumseh.  Now  the  chief  Brito  has  come,  wear- 
ing the  redcoat  of  the  English  warriors.  He  speaks 
fair,  saying  that  to  the  maid  belong  great  lands 
and  much  gold  and  that  he,  her  cousin,  would  take 
her  across  the  great  water  and  give  them  into  her 
keeping.  He  is  a  big  man,  strong  and  skilful,  to 
all  seeming  a  fit  mate  for  the  maiden.  If  his  tongue 
is  forked,  Tecumseh  knows  it  not.  But  Tecumseh 
remembers  the  words  of  his  dead  friend  and  wishes 
not  to  give  the  maid  up  to  one  whom  he  hateii.  Yet 
he  would  not  keep  her  from  her  own.  Therefore  he 
sends  this  belt  to  his  younger  brother,  he  of  whom 


14  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

his  friend  spoke,  he  whom  the  mother  of  Tecumseh 
raised  up  as  a  member  of  the  Panther  clan,  and  says 
to  him :  *  Come  quickly.  The  maid  is  of  your  house ; 
come  and  take  her  from  my  lodge  at  Wapakoneta 
and  see  that  she  gets  all  that  is  hers.* ' 

Jack  took  the  belt  eagerly.  To  go  to  the  lodge  of 
Tecumseh  to  bring  back  a  kinswoman  to  whom  had 
descended  great  estates  and  against  whom  foes — he 
at  once  decided  that  they  were  foes — were  plotting 
— What  boy  of  twenty-one  would  not  jump  at  the 
chance. 

And  to  go  to  Ohio — the  very  name  was  a  chal- 
lenge. The  Ohio  of  1812  was  not  the  Ohio  of  to-day, 
not  the  smiling,  level  country,  set  with  towns,  criss- 
crossed with  railways,  plastered  with  rich  farms 
where  the  harvest  leaps  to  the  tickling  of  the  hoe. 
It  was  far  away,  black  with  the  vast  shadow  of 
perpetual  forests,  beneath  which  quaked  great 
morasses.  Within  it  roved  bears,  deer,  buffalo, 
panthers,  venomous  snakes,  renegades,  murderers, 
Indians — the  bravest  and  most  warlike  that  the  land 
had  yet  known. 

Across  it  ran  the  frontier,  beyond  which  all  things 
were  possible.  For  thirty  years  and  more,  in  peace 
and  in  war,  British  officers  and  British  agents  had 
crossed  it  and  had  passed  up  and  down  behind  it, 
loaded  with  arms  and  provisions  and  rewards  for 
the  scalps  of  American  men  and  women  and  children. 
Steadily,  irresistibly,  unceasingly,  the  Americans 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  15 

had  driven  back  that  frontier,  making  every  fresh 
advance  with  their  blood,  their  sweat,  and  their 
agony;  and  as  steadily  the  redcoats  had  retreated, 
but  had  ever  sent  their  savage  emissaries  to  do  their 
devilish  work.  Ohio  had  taken  the  place  of  Ken- 
tucky as  a  watchword  with  the  adventurous  youth 
of  the  east;  to  grow  old  without  giving  Ohio  a 
chance  to  kill  one  had  become  almost  a  reproach. 

Besides,  war  with  Great  Britain  was  unquestion- 
ably close  at  hand.  All  over  the  country  troops 
were  mustering  for  the  invasion  of  Canada.  Gen- 
eral Hull  in  Ohio,  General  Van  Rensselaer  at  Niag- 
ara, and  General  Bloomfield  at  Plattsburg  were 
preparing  to  cross  the  northern  border  at  a  mo- 
ment's notice.  In  Ohio,  Jack  would  be  in  the  very 
forefront  of  the  fighting.  Both  by  instinct  and 
ancestry  the  lad  was  a  born  fighter,  always  on  tip- 
toe for  battle ;  he  had  shown  this  before  and  was 
to  show  it  often  afterwards.  But  the  last  three 
months  had  been  an  interlude,  during  which  Sally 
Habersham  had  been  the  one  real  thing  in  a  world 
of  shadows.  Now  he  had  awakened.  He  would  not 
dream  in  just  the  same  way  again. 

With  swelling  heart  hie  grasped  the  proffered 
belt. 

"  The  maiden  is  white?  *'  he  questioned. 

"  As  thyself,  little  brother.  She  is  the  daughter 
of  Delaroche  Telfair,  the  friend  of  Tecumseh,  who 


16  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

died  at  Pickawillany  fifteen  years  ago.  Moreover, 
she  is  very  fair." 

The  Indian  spoke  simply.  He  did  not  ask 
whether  Jack  would  come;  the  latter's  acceptance 
of  the  belt  pledged  him  to  that  course  and  to  ques- 
tion him  further  would  be  insulting.  He  did  not  ask 
any  pledge  as  to  the  treatment  of  the  girl;  ap- 
parently he  well  knew  that  none  was  necessary. 

Jack  considered.  "  I  will  find  the  maiden  at 
Wapakoneta?  "  he  questioned. 

"  If  my  brother  comes  quickly.  My  brother 
knows  that  war  is  in  the  air.  If  my  brother  is  slow 
let  him  inquire  of  Colonel  Johnson  at  Upper  Piqua. 
The  maiden  is  known  as  Alagwa  (the  Star).  Has 
my  brother  more  to  ask?  " 

Jack  shook  his  head.  If  he  had  been  speaking 
to  a  white  man  he  would  have  had  a  score  of  ques- 
tions to  ask;  but  he  had  learned  the  Indian  taci- 
turnity. All  had  been  said;  why  vainly  question 
more  ? 

"  No !  "  he  answered.  "  I  have  nothing  more  to 
ask.  My  brother  may  expect  me  at  Wapakoneta  as 
quickly  as  possible.  I  go  now  to  make  ready."  He 
did  not  again  press  his  hospitality  on  the  chief. 
He  knew  it  would  be  useless. 

The  Shawnee  bowed  slightly;  then  he  turned  on 
his  heel  and  melted  noiselessly  into  the  underbrush. 

Jack  stared  after  him  wonderingly.  Then  he 
stared  at  the  belt  in  his  hand.  So  quickly  the  chief 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  17 

had  come  and  so  quickly  he  had  gone  that  Jack 
needed  the  sight  of  something  material  to  convince 
himself  that  he  had  not  been  dreaming. 

Not  the  least  amazing  part  of  the  chiefs  coming 
had  been  the  message  he  had  brought.  Jack  had 
heard  of  Delaroche  Telfair,  but  he  had  heard  of  him 
only  vaguely.  When  his  Huguenot  forefathers  had 
fled  from  France,  a  century  and  a  quarter  before, 
one  branch  had  stopped  in  England  and  another 
branch  had  come  to  America.  The  American 
branch,  at  least,  had  not  broken  off  all  connection 
with  the  elder  titled  branch  of  the  family,  which  had 
remained  in  France.  Indeed,  as  the  years  went  by 
and  religious  animosities  died  out,  the  connec- 
tion had  if  anything  grown  closer.  Communication 
had  been  solely  by  letter,  but  it  is  not  rare  that  rela- 
tives who  do  not  see  each  other  are  the  better  friends. 
A  hundred  years  had  slipped  by  and  then  the  Ter- 
ror had  driven  the  Count  Telfair  and  his  younger 
brother,  Delaroche,  from  France.  The  count  had 
stayed  in  London  and  bye  and  bye  Had  gone  back 
to  join  the  court  of  Napoleon.  But  Delaroche  had 
shaken  the  soil  of  France  from  his  feet  and  had 
crossed  to  America  with  a  number  of  his  countrymen 
and  had  founded  Gallipolis,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Ohio,  the  second  city  in  the  state.  Later  he  had 
become  a  trader  to  the  Indians  and  at  last  was 
rumored  to  have  joined  the  Shawnees.  That  had 
2 


18  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

been  fifteen  years  before  and  none  of  the  Alabama 
Telfairs  had  heard  of  him  since. 

And  now  had  come  this  surprising  news.  He  was 
dead!  His  daughter  had  been  brought  up  by  the 
great  chief  Tecumseh  and  was  nearly  grown  and  was 
the  heiress  of  great  estates.  Brito  Telfair — Jack 
vaguely  recalled  the  name  as  that  of  the  head  of  the 
branch  that  had  stopped  in  England — sought  to 
get  possession  of  her.  Tecumseh  liked  him,  but, 
bound  by  a  promise  to  the  girl's  dead  father,  had 
refused  to  give  her  up  and  had  sent  all  the  weary 
miles  from  Ohio  to  Alabama  to  seek  out  the  Ameri- 
can Telfairs  and  keep  his  pledge.  More,  he  might 
have  long  contemplated  the  necessity  of  keeping  it. 
It  might  have  been  at  his  suggestion  that  his  mother, 
Methowaka,  who  had  been  born  in  Alabama,  at  Taka- 
batchi,  on  the  Tallapoosa  River,  not  twenty  miles 
from  the  Telfair  barony,  had  revisited  her  old  home 
about  ten  years  before,  shortly  before  her  tribe  had 
gone  north  for  good  and  all,  and  had  "  raised  up  " 
Jack  as  a  member  of  the  great  Panther  clan. 

And  now  he  had  sent  for  him,  sent  for  him  over 
nearly  a  thousand  miles  of  prairie,  swamp,  and 
forest,  past  hostile  Indian  villages  and  suspicious 
white  men.  Jack  thought  of  it  and  marvelled.  Few 
white  men  would  do  so  much  to  keep  a  pledge  to  a 
friend  ten  years  dead! 

As  he  pondered  Jack  had  been  pacing  slowly 
homeward.  At  last  he  halted  on  a  rustic  bridge 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  19 

thrown  across  a  swift-flowing  little  creek  that  sang 
merrily  through  the  woodland.  On  the  hill  beyond, 
at  the  crest  of  a  velvety  shadow-flecked  lawn,  rose 
the  white-stoned  walls  of  the  home  where  he  had 
been  born  and  bred.  Around  it  stretched  acres  of 
field  and  orchard,  vivid  with  the  delicate  blossoms 
of  apples  and  of  plums,  the  pink-white  haze  of 
peach,  the  light  green  spears  of  corn,  and  the  darker 
green  of  tobacco.  Over  his  head  a  belted  king- 
fisher screamed,  a  crimson  cardinal  flashed  like  a 
live  coal  from  tree  to  tree,  a  woodpecker  drummed 
at  a  tree.  Below  flashed  the  creek,  a  singing  water 
pebbled  with  pearls.  Jack  did  not  see  nor  hear 
them ;  arms  on  rail  he  stared  blankly,  pondering. 

A  voice  startled  him  and  he  swung  round  to  face 
his  body  servant,  Cato,  a  negro  a  few  years  older 
than  himself. 

Cato  was  panting.  "  Massa  Colonel's  home,  suh," 
he  gasped.  "  An'  he  want  you,  suh.  He's  in  a 
pow'ful  hurry." 

Jack  stared  at  the  boy.  "  Father  home ! "  he 
exclaimed,  half  to  himself.  "  I  didn't  expect  him 
for  hours." 

"  He's  done  got  home,  suh.  He  ride  Black  Rover 
most  near  to  death,  suh.  Yes,  suh!  He's  in  most 
pow'ful  hurry." 


CHAPTER  II 

COLONEL  TELFAIR  was  striding  excitedly 
up  and  down  the  wide  verandah,  lashing  as 
he  went  at  the  tall  riding  boots  he  wore.  His 
plum-colored,  long-skirted  riding  coat,  his  much-be- 
ruffled  white  shirt,  and  his  tight-fitting  breeches 
were  dusty  and  spattered  with  dried  mud.  It  needed 
not  the  white-lathered  horse  with  drooping  head  that 
a  negro  was  leading  from  the  horseblock  to  show  that 
he  had  ridden  fast  and  furiously. 

From  one  end  of  the  porch  to  the  other  he  strode, 
stopping  at  each  to  scan  the  landscape,  then  rest- 
lessly paced  back  again.  A  dozen  negroes  racing 
in  every  direction  confirmed  the  urgent  haste  that 
his  manner  showed. 

Abruptly  he  paused  as  Jack,  followed  by  Cato, 
came  hurrying  up  the  drive.  "  Hurry,  sir,  hurry," 
he  bawled.  "  Don't  keep  me  waiting  all  day." 

Jack  quickened  his  steps.  "  I  didn't  know  you 
were  back,  father,"  he  declared,  as  he  came  close. 
"  I'm  glad  you  are,  sir.  I've  news,  important  news  !  " 

The  elder  Telfair  scowled.  "  News,  have  you, 
sir?  "  he  rumbled.  "  So  have  I.  Come  inside,  quick, 
and  we'll  exchange.'*  Turning,  he  led  the  way 
through  a  deep  hall  into  a  great  room,  whose  oak- 
panelled  walls  were  hung  with  full-length  portraits 
of  dead  and  gone  Telfairs — distinguished  men  and 
20 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  21 

women  whose  strong  faces  showed  that  in  their  time 
they  had  cut  a  figure  in  the  world.  There  he  faced 
round. 

"  Now,  sir,  tell  your  news,"  he  ordered.  "  I'll 
warrant  it's  short  and  foolish." 

"  Perhaps !  "  Jack  grinned ;  he  and  his  father 
were  excellent  friends.  "  Did  you  know,  sir,  that 
our  kinsman,  Delaroche  Telfair,  was  dead,  leaving 
a  daughter  who  is  a  ward  of  Tecumseh,  the  Shawnee 
chief?  " 

The  elder  Telfair  blinked.  "Good  Lord!"  he 
said,  softly.  He  tottered  a  step  or  two  backward 
and  dropped  heavily  into  a  chair.  "  You've  had  a 
letter,  too  ?  "  he  gasped. 

"  A  letter?    No,  sir;  not  a  letter " 

"  You  must  have,  sir.  Don't  trifle  with  me !  I'm 
in  no  temper  to  stand  it.  Who  brought  you  the 
letter?  " 

"  I  haven't  any  letter,  father.  I  haven't  heard  of 
any  letter.  I  met  an  Indian " 

"An  Indian?" 

"  Yes.  A  Shawnee  from  Ohio,  a  messenger  from 
Tecumseh " 

"  Tecumseh !  Good  Lord !  Do  you  know — But 
that  can  wait.  Go  on." 

"  Delaroche  seems  to  have  pledged  him  to  call 
on  us  in  case  certain  things  happened.  They  have 
happened  and  he  has  sent.  He  wants  me  to  come 
and  get  the  girl." 


22  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

"  Good  God !  "  muttered  the  elder  man  once  more. 
"  Look — look  at  this,  Jack !  "  He  held  out  an  open 
letter.  "  I  got  it  at  Montgomery,  and  I  rode  like 
the  devil  to  bring  it,  and  here  a  murdering  Shawnee 

gets  ahead  of  me  and "  His  words  died  away ; 

clearly  the  situation  was  beyond  him. 

Jack  took  the  letter  doubtfully  and  unfolded  it. 
Then  he  looked  at  his  father  amazedly. 

"  It's  from  Capron,  the  lawyer  for  the  Telfair 
estates  in  France,"  interjected  the  elder  man. 
"  It's  in  French,  of  course.  Read  it  aloud !  Trans- 
late it  as  you  go." 

Jack  walked  to  the  window,  threw  up  the  blind, 
and  held  the  letter  to  the  light. 

"  My  very  dear  sir,"  he  read.  "  It  is  my  sad  duty 
to  apprise  you  that  my  so  justly  honored  patron,  Louis, 
Count  of  Telfair,  passed  away  on  the  30th  ultimo, 
videlicet,  December  30,  1811.  The  succession  to  the 
title  and  the  estate  now  falls  to  the  descendants  of  his 
brother,  M.  Delaroche  Telfair,  who,  as  you  of  course 
know,  emigrated  to  America  in  1790  and  settled  at 
Gallipolis  on  the  Ohio,  which  without  doubt  is  very 
close  to  your  own  estates  in  Alabama.  Perhaps  it  is 
that  you  have  exchanged  frequent  visits  with  him  and 
that  his  history  and  the  so  sad  circumstances  of  his 
death  are  to  you  of  the  most  familiar.  If  so,  much  of 
this  letter  is  unnecessary. 

"  In  the  remote  contingency,  however,  that  you  may 
not  know  of  his  history  in  America,  permit  me  to  repeat 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  23 

the  little  that  is  known  to  us  here  in  France.  It  will 
call  the  attention;  this: 

"  Among  the  papers  of  my  so  noble  patron,  just  de- 
ceased, I  have  found  a  letter,  dated  June  10,  1800, 
with  the  seal  yet  unbroken,  which  appears  to  have 
reached  the  chateau  Telfair  many  years  ago  but  not 
to  have  been  brought  to  his  lordship's  attention.  Of 
a  truth  this  is  not  surprising,  the  year  1800  being  of 
the  most  disturbed  and  the  years  following  being  at- 
tended by  turbulence  both  of  politics  and  of  strife, 
during  which  his  lordship  seldom  visited  the  chateau. 

"  This  letter  inclosed  certificates  of  the  marriage 
at  Marietta,  Ohio,  of  M.  Delaroche  Telfair  to  Mile. 
Margaret  De  la  War,  on  June  18,  1794,  and  of  the 
birth  of  a  daughter,  Estelle,  on  Oct.  9,  1795.  The 
originals  appear  to  be  on  file  at  Marietta.  M.  Dela- 
roche says  that  he  sends  the  copies  as  a  precaution. 

"  No  other  information  of  father  or  daughter  or  of 
any  other  children  appears  to  be  of  record,  but  the  late 
count  had  without  a  doubt  received  further  news,  for 
he  several  times  spoke  to  me  of  his  so  sadly  deceased 
brother. 

"  In  default  of  a  possible  son  the  title  of  Count  of 
Telfair  devolves  on  M.  Brito  Telfair,  representative 
of  the  branch  of  the  family  so  execrated  by  his  lord- 
ship now  departed.  Your  own  line  comes  last.  The 
estates  go  to  the  Lady  Estelle  Telfair,  or,  if  she  be 
deceased,  to  Count  Brito  Telfair,  whose  ancestors  have 
long  been  domiciled  in  England." 

Jack  looked  up.  "  Brito  Telfair !  "  he  exclaimed. 
"  That's  the  name  the  Indian  mentioned.  Who  is 
he  exactly  ?  " 


24  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

"  He's  the  head  of  the  British  branch.  His  peo- 
ple moved  there  a  hundred  years  or  so  ago,  after  the 
Revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes.  We  came  to 
America  and  they  stopped  in  England.  I  under- 
stand he's  an  officer  in  the  British  army,  heavily 
in  debt,  and  a  general  roue.  I  reckon  he's  about 
forty  years  old." 

With  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders — a  trick  inherited 
from  his  Gallic  ancestors — Jack  resumed: 

"  Not  knowing  where  to  reach  the  Lady  Estelle  (or 
other  descendants  of  M.  Delaroche)  I  address  you, 
asking  that  you  convey  to  her  my  most  humble  felicita- 
tions. I  can  not  close,  my  dear  sir,  without  a  word 
of  the  caution.  The  Lady  Estelle  would  appear  to 
be  about  seventeen  years  of  age.  Her  property  in 
France  is  of  a  value,  ah !  yes,  but  of  a  value  the  most 
great.  Adventurers  will  surely  seek  her  out  and  she 
will  need  friends.  Above  all  she  should  not  be  allowed 
to  fall  into  the  hands  of  M.  Brito,  who  would  un- 
doubtedly wed  her  out  of  all  hand  to  gain  possession 
of  her  estates.  Both  the  late  count  and  M.  Delaroche 
(when  I  knew  him)  hated  and  despised  the  English 
branch  of  M.  Brito.  To  you,  beloved  of  my  master 
the  count,  I  appeal  to  save  and  protect  his  heiress  from 
those  he  so  execrated.  I  have  the  honor,  my  very  dear 
sir,  to  be  your  obedient  servant.  Verbum  sapientes 
satis  est. 

HENRI  CAPRON,  avocat. 

POSTSCRIPTUM. — I  open  this  to  add  that  I  have  just 
learned  that  M.  Brito  sailed  with  his  regiment  for 
Montreal  a  month  ago.  He  is  of  a  repute  the  most  eviL 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  25 

If  he  gets  possession  of  the  Lady  Estelle  he  will  with- 
out the  doubt  wed  her,  forcibly  if  need  be.  And  it 
would  be  of  a  shame  the  most  profound  if  the  Telfair 
estates  should  be  squandered  in  paying  the  debts  of 
one  so  disreputable. 

Jack  crumpled  the  letter  in  his  hand.  "  I  should 
think  it  would  be,"  he  cried.  "  Thank  the  Lord 
Tecumseh  remembered  Delaroche's  warning.  But 
let  me  tell  you  my  story." 

Rapidly  Jack  recounted  the  circumstances  of  the 
Shawnee's  visit  and  recited  the  message  he  had 
brought.  "  This  explains  everything,"  he  ended. 
"  Brito  Telfair  wants  to  get  possession  of  the  girl 
and  marry  her  before  she  knows  anything  about  her 
rights.  Well!  He  shan't!" 

Colonel  Telfair  laughed.  "  Lord !  Jack !  You're 
heated,"  he  exclaimed.  "  Brito  Telfair  probably 
isn't  much  worse  than  other  men  of  his  age  and 
surroundings.  You've  got  to  allow  for  Capron's 
prejudices,  national  and  personal.  Marriage  with 
him  mightn't  be  altogether  unsuitable.  Still,  we've 
got  to  make  sure  that  it  is  suitable,  and  if  it  isn't, 
we've " 

"  We've  got  to  stop  it !  "  Jack  struck  in.  "  The 
first  thing  is  to  find  the  girl  and  bring  her  here. 
We  can  decide  what  to  do  after  that." 

Colonel  Telfair  became  suddenly  grave.  "  Yes !  " 
he  answered,  "  I  reckon  we  can,  if — "  He  broke  off 
and  contemplated  his  son  curiously.  "  How  does 


26  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

Tecumseh  happen  to  send  for  you,  sir?  "  he  de- 
manded. "  But  I  reckon  it  comes  of  your  running 
wild  in  their  villages  while  they  were  down  here. 
They  adopted  you  or  something,  didn't  they  ?  " 

Jack  nodded.  "  Yes !  Tecumseh's  mother 
adopted  me  into  the  Panther  clan.  She  was  born 
down  here,  you  know,  and  was  back  here  on  a  visit 
when  I  knew  her." 

"  Humph !  "  The  old  gentleman  pondered  a  mo- 
ment. Then  suddenly  he  caught  fire.  "  Yes !  Go, 
Jack,  go !  "  he  thundered.  "  Damme,  sir !  I'd  like 
to  go  with  you,  sir.  I  envy  you!  If  I  was  a  few 
years  younger  I'd  go,  too,  sir!  Damme!  I  would." 

"  I  wish  you  could,  father."  The  boy  threw  his 
arm  affectionately  about  the  older  man's  shoulders. 
"  Lord !  wouldn't  we  have  times  together.  We'd 
rescue  the  girl  and  then  we'd  help  General  Hull 
smash  the  redcoats  and  the  redskins." 

"  We  would,  sir !  Damme,  we  would !  "  The  old 
gentleman  shook  his  fist  in  the  air.  "  We'd — 

we'd "  He  broke  off,  catching  at  his  side,  and 

dropped  into  a  chair,  which  Jack  hurriedly  pushed 
forward.  "  Oh !  Jack !  Jack !  "  he  groaned.  "  What 
d'ye  mean  by  getting  your  old  'father  worked  up  till 
he's  ill  ?  "  Then  with  a  sudden  change  of  front — 
"  You — you'll  be  careful,  won't  you,  Jack?  Not  too 
careful,  you  know — not  when  you  face  the  enemy, 
but — but — damme,  sir,  you  know  what  I  mean. 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  27 

You  needn't  get  yourself  killed  for  the  fun  of  it, 
sir.  I — I'm  an  old  man,  Jack,  and  you're  my  only 
son  and  if  you " 

"  Don't  fear,  father !  I  know  the  woods.  I  know 
the  trails.  I  know  the  Indian  tongues.  I  am  a 
member  of  the  Panther  clan.  More,  I  am  going  to 
Ohio  at  the  invitation  of  Tecumseh.  Until  war  be- 
gins every  member  of  my  clan  will  be  bound  to  help 
me  because  I  am  their  clan  brother ;  every  Shawnee 
will  be  bound  to  help  me  because  I  am  the  friend 
of  Tecumseh;  every  other  warrior  will  befriend  me 
once  he  knows  who  I  am.  If  I  travel  fast  I  may 
rescue  cousin  Estelle  before " 

"  Estelle !  Estelle !  Good  God !  Yes !  I'd  forgot- 
ten her  altogether.  I  wonder  what  she'll  be  like :  not 
much  like  our  young  ladies ;  that's  certain.  Bring 
her  back  to  us,  Jack.  We  need  a  daughter  in  the 
family.  And  as  for  France,  damme,  I'll  go  over 
witK  her  myself,  sir." 

"  I'll  wager  you  will,  father.  I'll  get  her  before 
war  begins  if  I  can.  If  I  can't — well,  I'll  get  her 
somehow.  Once  war  begins,  my  clan  membership 
fails  and " 

"  Well !  Let  it  fail,  sir.  I  don't  half  understand 
about  this  clan  business  of  yours,  sir.  I  don't  ap- 
prove of  it,  sir.  How  will  war  effect  that,  sir?  " 

Colonel  Telfair's  ignorance  as  to  the  Indian  clans 
was  no  greater  than  that  of  nine-tenths  of  his  fel- 
low citizens,  whether  of  his  own  times  or  of  later 


28  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

ones,  dense  ignorance  having  commonly  prevailed 
not  only  as  to  the  nature  but  as  to  the  very  existence 
of  the  clans. 

But  Jack  knew  them.  Much  had  he  forgotten, 
but  in  the  last  hour  much  had  come  back  to  him. 
Thoughts,  memories,  bits  of  ritual,  learned  long  be- 
fore and  buried  beneath  later  knowledge,  struggled 
upward  through  the  veil  of  the  years  and  rose  to  his 
lips. 

"  They — they  are  like  Masonic  orders,  father," 
he  began,  vaguely.  "  They  know  no  tribe,  no  nation. 
Mohawks  and  Shawnees  and  Creeks  of  the  same 
clan  are  brothers,  and  yet — and  yet — if  the  Shawnee 
sends  a  war  belt  to  the  Creeks,  clan  ties  are  sus- 
pended— just  as  between  Masons  of  different  na- 
tions. But  when  the  battle  is  over,  fraternity 
brothers  are  bound  to  succor  each  other,  bound  to 
ransom  each  other  from  the  flame.  This  they  may 
perhaps  do  by  persuading  the  tribe  to  adopt  them 
in  place  of  some  warrior  who  has  been  slain." 

"  Humph !  I  thought  they  had  been  adopted 
already  ?  " 

"  As  members  of  the  clan,  yes !  Adoption  by  the 
tribe  is  different.  It  changes  the  entire  blood  of 
him  who  is  adopted.  He  becomes  the  man  whose 
name  and  place  he  takes,  and  he  is  bound  to  live 
and  fight  as  his  predecessor  would  have  lived  and 
fought  and  to  forget  that  he  ever  lived  another 
life.  Membership  in  the  clans  by  birth  is  strictly 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  29 

in  the  female  line.     The  women  control  them  and 
decide  who  shall  be  adopted  into  them." 

"All  right.  I  don't  half  understand.  But  I 
suppose  you  do.  Any  way,  I'm  glad  you've  got 
your  membership  to  help  you — Look  here,  Jack !  " 
An  idea  had  struck  the  elder  man.  "  D — d  if 
I  don't  believe  that  warrior  of  yours  was  Tecumseh 
himself.  I  started  to  speak  of  it  when  you  first 
named  him.  I  met  Colonel  Hawkins — he's  the 
Indian  agent — this  morning  and  he  told  me  that  a 
big  chief  from  the  north  was  down  here,  powwowing 
to  the  Creeks  at  Takabatchi — urging  them  to  dig 
up  the  hatchet,  I  reckon.  Tecumseh  was  here  a 
year  ago,  you  know.  Maybe  he's  come  back !  " 

Jack  nodded,  absently.  "  Maybe  it  was 
Tecumseh,  father,"  he  answered.  He  had  just  re- 
membered Sally  Habersham  and  he  was  wondering 
if  she  would  grieve  when  she  heard  that  he  had  gone 
away.  For  a  time,  perhaps !  But  not  for  long. 
She  would  have  other  thoughts  to  engross  her. 
Jack  knew  it  and  was  glad  to  know  it.  He  wanted 
no  one  to  be  unhappy  because  o'f  him — least  of  all 
Sally  Habersham.  She  who  had  been  so  kind — so 
kind — His  lips  burned  at  the  memory  of  her  kiss. 
"  I'll  prove  myself  worthy  of  it ! "  he  swore  to  him- 
self. "  I'll  carry  it  unsullied  to  the  end.  No  other 

woman " 

Telfair  broke  in.  "  Damme !  sir !  What  are  you 
moonshining  about  now?  "  he  roared.  "  About  your 


30  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

cousin  Estelle?  Bring  her  back  and  marry  her, 
Jack.  She's  a  great  heiress,  my  lad,  a  great 
heiress." 

Jack  drew  himself  up.  Strangely  enough  he  had 
thought  little  about  the  girl-child  for  whose  sake 
he  was  going  to  undertake  the  long  journey.  His 
father's  words  grated  on  him. 

"  I  shall  never  marry,  father,"  he  declared. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  sun  was  about  to  climb  above  the  rim  of 
the  world.  Already  the  white  dawn  was 
silvering  the  grey  mists  that  lay  alike  on 
plain  and  on  river  and  half  hid  the  mossy  green 
boles  of  the  trees  that  stood  on  the  edge  of  the 
forest.  From  beneath  it  sounded  the  low  murmur 
of  the  waters  of  the  Auglaize,  toiling  sluggishly 
through  the  timbers  that  choked  its  bed  and  gave 
it  its  Indian  name  of  Cowthenake,  Fallen  Timber 
river.  High  about  it  whimpered  the  humming  rush 
of  wild  ducks.  From  the  black  wall  of  the  forest 
that  led  northward  to  the  Black  Swamp  came  the 
waking  call  of  birds. 

Steadily  the  light  grew.  The  first  yellow  shafts 
shimmered  along  the  surface  of  the  mist,  stirring 
it  to  sudden  life.  Out  of  the  draperies  of  fog,  points 
seemed  to  rise,  black  against  the  curtain  off  the 
dawn.  To  them  the  mists  clung  with  moist  tenacious 
fingers,  resisting  for  a  moment  the  call  of  the  sun, 
then  shimmering  away,  leaving  only  a  trace  of  tears 
to  sparkle  in  the  sunlight. 

Steadily  the  sun  mounted  and  steadily  the  mists 
shrank.  The  spectral  points,  first  evidence  that 
land  and  not  water  lay  beneath  the  fog,  broadened 
downward,  here  into  tufts  of  hemlock,  there  into 
smoother,  more  regular  shapes  that  spoke  of  human 

81 


32  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

workmanship.  Louder  and  louder  grew  the  rippling 
of  the  river.  Then,  abruptly,  the  carpet  of  mist 
rose  in  the  air,  shredding  into  a  thousand  wisps 
of  white ;  'for  a  moment  it  obscured  the  view,  then  it 
was  gone,  floating  away  toward  the  great  forest,  as 
if  seeking  sanctuary  in  its  chilly  depths.  The  black 
river  was  still  half-veiled,  but  the  land  lay  bare, 
sparkling  with  jewelled  dew-drops. 

Close  beside  the  river,  on  an  elevation  that  rose, 
island  like,  above  the  surrounding  plain,  stood  the 
Indian  village,  row  after  row  of  cabins,  strongly 
built  of  heavy  logs,  roofed  with  poles,  and  chinked 
with  moss  and  clay.  In  and  out  among  them  moved 
half-wolfish  dogs,  that  had  crept  from  their  lairs 
to  welcome  the  rising  of  the  sun. 

No  human  being  was  visible,  but  an  indistinct 
murmur,  coming  from  nowhere  and  everywhere, 
mingled  with  the  rush  of  the  river  and  the  whisper  of 
the  wind  in  the  green  rushes  and  the  tall  grass. 
The  huts  seemed  to  stir  visibly;  first  from  one  and 
then  from  a  score,  men,  women,  and  children  bobbed 
out,  some  merrily,  some  grumpily,  to  stretch  them- 
selves in  the  sunshine  and  to  breathe  in  the  soft  morn- 
ing air  before  it  began  to  quiver  in  the  baking  heat 
that  would  surely  and  swiftly  come.  For  early  June 
was  no  less  hot  in  northern  Ohio  in  1812,  when  the 
whole  country  was  one  vast  alternation  of  swamp 
and  forest,  than  it  is  a  hundred  years  later  when  the 
land  has  been  drained  and  the  forest  cut  away. 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  33 

From  the  door  of  a  cabin  near  the  centre  of  the 
town  emerged  a  girl  sixteen  or  seventeen  years  of 
age,  who  stood  still  in  the  sunbeams,  eyes  fixed  on 
the  trail  that  led  away  through  the  breaks  in  the 
forest  to  the  south.  Her  features,  browned  as  they 
were  by  the  sun  and  concealed  as  they  were  by  paint, 
yet  plainly  lacked  the  high  cheek-bones,  black  eyes, 
and  broad  nostrils  of  the  Indians.  Some  alien  blood 
showed  itself  in  the  softness  of  her  cheek,  in  the 
kindling  color  in  her  long  dark  hair,  in  the  brown 
of  her  eyes.  Her  graceful  body  had  the  straight 
slenderness  that  in  the  quick-maturing  Indian  maids 
of  her  size  and  height  had  given  place  to  the  rounded 
curves  of  budding  womanhood.  Her  head,  alertly 
poised  above  her  strong  throat,  showed  none  of  the 
marks  of  ancestral  toil  that  had  already  begun  to 
bow  her  companions.  In  dress  alone  was  she  like 
them,  though  even  in  this  the  unusual  richness  of 
her  doeskin  garb,  belted  at  the  hips  with  silver, 
marked  her  as  one  of  prominence. 

For  a  little  longer  the  girl  watched  the  south- 
ward trail;  then  her  eyes  roved  westward,  across 
the  rippling  waters  of  the  Auglaize,  now  veiled  only 
by  scattered  wisps  o'f  mist,  and  across  its  border  of 
sedgy  grass,  pale  shimmering  green  in  the  mount- 
ing sun,  and  rested  on  a  cabin  that  stood  on  the 
further  bank,  between  an  orchard  and  a  small  field 
of  enormous  corn.  From  this  cabin  two  men  were 
just  emerging. 
3 


34  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

They  were  too  far  away  indeed  for  the  average 
civilized  man  or  woman  to  distinguish  more  than 
that  they  were  men  and  were  dressed  as  whites.  The 
girl,  however,  was  possessed  of  sight  naturally 
strong  and  had  been  trained  all  her  life  amid  sur- 
roundings where  quickness  of  vision  might  easily 
mean  the  difference  between  life  and  death.  She 
had  seen  the  men  before  and  she  recognized  them  in- 
stantly. 

One  of  them  wore  a  red  coat  and  carried  himself 
with  a  ramrod-like  erectness  that  bespoke  the  British 
officer;  the  girl  knew  that  he  was  from  Canada, 
probably  from  the  fort  at  Maiden,  to  which  for  three 
years  the  Indians  from  a  thousand  square  miles  of 
American  soil  had  been  going  by  tens  and  hundreds 
to  return  laden  with  arms  and  ammunition  and 
presents  from  His  Majesty,  the  King  of  Great 
Britain.  The  second  was  of  medium  height,  shaggy, 
dressed  in  Indian  costume,  with  a  handkerchief 
bound  about  his  forehead  in  place  of  a  hat. 
He  could  only  be  James  Girty,  owner  of  the  cabin, 
or  his  brother  Simon,  of  infamous  memory — more 
probably  the  latter. 

As  the  girl  watched  them  an  Indian  squaw  crept 
out  of  a  near-by  cabin  and  came  toward  her. 

"  Ever  the  heart  of  Alagwa  (the  Star)  turns  to- 
ward the  white  men,"  said  she,  harshly. 

The  girl  started,  the  swift  blood  leaping  to  her 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  35 

cheeks.  "  Nay !  "  she  said.  "  These  white  men  have 
red  hearts.  They  are  the  friends  of  the  Indian. 
Katepakomen  (Girty)  is  an  Indian;  his  white  blood 
has  been  washed  from  his  veins  even  as  my  own ! " 

"  Your  own !  "  The  old  woman  laughed  scornfully. 
"  Not  so !  Your  heart  is  not  red.  It  is  white." 

Alagwa's  was  not  the  Indian  stoicism  that  meets 
all  attacks  with  immobility.  Her  lip  quivered  and 
her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  "  I  am  not  white,"  she 
quavered.  "  I  am  red,  red." 

The  old  woman  hesitated.  She  knew  that  between 
equals  what  she  had  said  would  have  been  all  but 
unforgiveable.  Alagwa  had  been  adopted  into  the 
tribe  years  before  in  the  place  of  another  Alagwa 
who  had  died.  She  had  been  "  raised  up  "  in  place  of 
her.  Theoretically  all  white  blood  had  been  washed 
out  of  her.  She  was  the  dead.  To  remind  her  of 
her  other  life  and  ancestry  was  the  worst  insult 
imaginable.  The  old  woman  knew  that  Tecumseh 
would  be  very  angry  if  he  heard  it.  But  she  had  an 
object  to  gain  and  went  on. 

"  Then  why  does  Alagwa  refuse  my  son?  "  she 
said.  "  Why  does  she  defy  the  customs  of  her 
people — if  they  are  her  people.  The  council  of 
women  have  decreed  that  she  shall  wed  Wilwiloway. 
If  her  heart  is  red  why  does  she  not  obey?  " 

The  girl  hung  her  head.  "  I — I  am  too  young  to 
wed,"  she  protested. 


36  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

"  Bah ! "  the  old  woman  spat  upon  the  ground. 
"  Alagwa  has  seen  seventeen  summers.  Other  girls 
wed  at  fifteen.  Why  should  Alagwa  scorn  my  son. 
Is  he  not  straight  and  tall?  Is  he  not  first  among 
the  warriors  in  war  and  in  chase?  Has  he  not 
brought  back  many  scalps?  Alagwa's  heart  is 
white — not  red." 

«  But " 

"  Were  Wilwiloway  other  than  he  is,  he  would 
long  ago  have  taken  Alagwa  to  his  hut.  But  he 
will  not.  His  heart,  too,  is  white.  He  says  Alagwa 
must  come  to  him  willingly  or  not  at  all.  He  will 

not  let  us  compel  her.  He "  The  old  woman 

broke  off  with  a  catch  in  her  voice — "  he  loves 
Alagwa  truly,"  she  pleaded,  wistfully.  "  Will  not 
Alagwa  make  his  moccasins  and  pound  his  corn ! " 

The  girl,  who  had  slowly  straightened  up  under 
the  assault  of  the  old  woman,  weakened  before  the 
sudden  change  of  tone. 

"  Oh !  "  she  cried.  "  I  will  try.  Truly !  I  will 
try.  Wilwiloway  is  good  and  kind  and  brave.  I  am 
proud  that  he  has  chosen  me.  I  wish  I  could  love 
him.  But — but  I  do  not,  and  I  must  love  before  I 
give  myself.  I  am  bad !  wicked !  I  know  it.  Yes ! 
I  have  a  white  heart.  But  I  will  pray  to  Mishe- 
manitou,  the  Great  God,  to  make  it  red." 

The  old  woman  caught  the  sobbing  girl  to  her 
heart.  "Do  not  weep!"  she  said,  gently.  "See! 
the  sun  burns  red  through  the  trees ;  it  is  the  answer 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  37 

of  Manitou,  the  mighty.  He  sends  it  as  a  message 
that  your  heart  shall  turn  from  white  to  red.  There ! 
It  is  changed !  Look  up,  Alagwa,  and  be  glad." 

The  girl  raised  her  head  and  stared  at  the  line 
of  trees  that  curled  away  in  a  great  crescent  toward 
the  east  and  the  west.  The  sun  did  indeed  burn 
red  through  them.  Could  it  be  an  omen?  As  she 
stared  the  squaw  slipped  silently  away. 

Alagwa's  heart  was  burning  hot  within  her.  The 
squaw's  accusation  that  her  heart  was  white  had 
cut  deep.  All  her  remembered  life  she  had  been 
taught  to  hate  and  fear  the  white  men.  White  men 
were  the  source  of  all  evil  that  had  befallen  her. 
They  had  driven  her  and  her  people  back,  back,  ever 
back,  forcing  them  to  give  up  one  home  after 
another.  WTiite  men  had  slain  her  friends;  never 
did  she  inquire  for  some  dear  one  who  was  missing 
but  to  be  told  that  he  had  been  killed  by  the  white 
men.  Again  and  again  in  her  baby  ears  had  rung 
the  cries  of  the  squaws,  weeping  for  the  dead  who 
would  return  no  more.  Of  the  other  side  of  the 
picture  she  knew  nothing.  Of  the  red  rapine  the 
Shawnee  braves  had  wrought  for  miles  and  miles  to 
the  south  she  had  heard,  but  it  was  to  her  only  a 
name,  not  the  awful  fact  that  it  had  been  to  its 
victims.  To  her  the  whites  were  aggressors,  rob- 
bers, murderers,  who  were  slowly  but  surely  crush- 
ing her  Indian  friends. 


38  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

Only  the  year  before  they  had  destroyed  her  home 
at  Tippecanoe  on  the  banks  of  the  Wabash.  Well 
she  remembered  their  advance,  their  fair  speak- 
ing that  concealed  their  implacable  purpose  to  de- 
stroy her  people.  Well  she  remembered  the  great 
Indian  council  that  debated  whether  to  fight  or  to 
yield,  the  promises  of  the  Prophet  that  his  medicine 
would  shield  the  Indians  against  the  white  men's 
bullets,  the  night  attack,  the  repulse,  the  flight 
across  miles  of  prairie  to  the  ancestral  home  at 
Wapakoneta.  She  remembered  Tecumseh's  return 
— too  late.  Here,  also,  she  knew  nothing  of  the  other 
side — of  the  absolute  military  necessity  that  the 
headquarters  from  which  Tecumseh  was  preparing 
to  sweep  the  frontier  should  be  destroyed  and  its 
menace  ended.  It  was  she  and  her  friends  who  had 
suffered  and  it  was  she  and  her  friends  who  had 
fled,  half  starved,  across  those  perilous  miles  of 
swamp  and  morass.  It  was  the  white  men  who  had 
triumphed;  and  she  hated  them,  hated  them,  hated 
them.  The  memory  of  it  all  was  bitter. 

And  it  was  no  less  bitter  because  revenge  seemed 
hopeless.  Tecumseh  was  planning  revenge,  she 
knew,  but  he  no  longer  found  the  support  he  had 
gained  a  year  before.  His  own  people,  the 
Shawnees,  implacable  fighters  as  they  had  been,  had 
wearied  of  war  at  last.  Black  Wolf,  the  chief  at 
Wapakoneta,  himself  once  a  great  warrior  and  a 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  39 

bitter  foe  of  the  whites,  now  preached  that  further 
resistance  was  vain — that  it  meant  only  death. 
Many  of  the  tribe  sided  with  him,  for  the  Indian,  no 
more  than  the  white  man,  unless  maddened  by  long 
tyranny,  cares  to  engage  in  a  contest  where  triumph 
is  hopeless.  The  only  hope  lay  in  the  redcoats, 
soldiers  o'f  the  great  king  across  the  water.  They 
were  planning  war  against  the  Long  Knives.  If 
they  should  make  common  cause  with  the  red  men, 
revenge  might  yet  be  won.  If  she  could  do  anything 
to  help ! 

A  footstep  startled  her  and  she  flashed  about  to 
find  Simon  Girty  and  the  tall  man  in  the  red  coat 
almost  upon  her.  While  she  had  dreamed  of  the 
return  of  Tecumseh  they  had  crossed  the  Auglaize 
river  and  had  come  upon  her  unawares. 

Girty  was  as  she  had  many  times  remembered  him 
— a  deeply-tanned  man  perhaps  forty  years  of  age, 
with  gray,  sunken  eyes,  thin  and  compressed  lips, 
hyena  chin,  and  dark  shaggy  hair  bound  with  a 
handkerchief  above  a  low  forehead,  across  which 
stretched  a  ghastly  half-healed  wound.  In  his  arms 
he  carried  a  great  bale,  carefully  wrapped. 

The  other — Alagwa  had  never  seen  his  like  before 
— was  tall  and  powerful  looking.  His  carriage  was 
graceful  and  easy.  His  dark  face,  handsome  in  a 
way  though  plainly  not  so  handsome  as  it  had  been 
some  years  before,  was  characterized  by  a  powerful 


40  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

jaw  that  diverted  attention  from  his  strong  mouth 
and  aquiline  nose.  He  was  regarding  the  girl  with 
an  expression  evidently  intended  to  be  friendly,  but 
which  somehow  grated.  It  seemed  at  once  con- 
descending, appraising,  and  insolent. 

All  this  Alagwa  took  in  at  a  glance  as  she  shrank 
backward,  intent  on  flight.  But  before  she  could 
move  Girty's  voice  broke  in. 

"  Stop ! "  he  ordered,  sharply,  in  the  Shawnee 
tongue.  "  The  white  chief  from  afar  would  speak 
with  the  Star  maiden." 

Alagwa  paused,  looking  fearfully  backward. 
But  she  did  not  speak  and  Girty  went  on. 

"  The  white  chief  is  of  the  House  of  Alagwa,"  he 
declared.  "  His  heart  is  warm  toward  her.  He 
brings  good  news  and  many  presents  to  lay  at  her 
feet."  He  laid  down  the  bale. 

Alagwa  looked  from  it  to  the  man  and  back  again. 
"  Let  him  speak,"  she  said,  in  somewhat  halting 
English. 

At  the  sound  of  his  own  tongue  the  Englishman's 
face  lighted  up  and  he  took  an  impulsive  step  for- 
ward. "  You  speak  English?  "  he  exclaimed,  with 
a  note  of  wonder  in  his  voice.  "  Why  did  nobody 
tell  me  that?  How  did  you  learn?"  His  surprise 
did  not  seem  altogether  complimentary. 

Alagwa  was  studying  him  shyly.  She  found  his 
pink  and  white  complexion  very  pleasing  after  the 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  41 

coppery  skins  of  the  Indians  and  the  no  less  swarthy 
faces  of  most  of  the  white  men  she  had  seen.  Be- 
sides, this  man  wore  a  red  coat  and  the  redcoats 
were  the  friends  of  Tecumseh.  '*  I  speak  it  a  little," 
she  said,  hesitatingly.  As  a  matter  of  fact  she 
spoke  it  rather  well,  having  picked  up  much  from 
time  to  time  from  Colonel  Johnson,  the  Indian  agent, 
from  two  or  three  white  prisoners,  and  from 
Tecumseh  himself. 

"That's  lucky.  If  I'd  known  that  I'd  have 
spoken  to  you  before  and  settled  the  business  out  of 
hand.  You  wouldn't  guess  it,  of  course,  little  forest 
maiden  that  you  are,  but  you  are  a  cousin  of  mine?  '' 

"  A  cousin  ?  I  ?  "  Startled,  palpitating,  Alagwa 
leaned  forward,  staring  with  wide  eyes.  No  white 
man  except  her  father  had  ever  claimed  kin  with 
her.  What  did  it  mean,  this  sudden  appearance  of 
one  of  her  blood? 

"  Yes !  You're  my  cousin  and,  egad,  you'll  do 
the  family  honor !  I'm  Captain  Count  Brito  Telfair, 
you  know,  and  you  are  the  Lady  Es'telle  Telfair. 
Your  father  was  my  kinsman.  I  never  met  him, 
for  he  and  his  people  lived  in  France,  and  I  and 
my  people  lived  in  England.  Your  uncle  was  the 
Count  Telfair.  He  died  not  long  ago.  He  had 
neglected  you  shamefully,  but  when  he  died  it  be- 
came my  duty  as  head  of  the  house  to  come  over 
here  and  fetch  you  back  to  France  and  give  you 
everything  you  want.  Do  you  understand?  " 


42  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

Alagwa  did  not  understand  wholly.  Not  only  the 
words  but  the  ideas  were  new  to  her.  But  she 
gathered  that  she  had  white  kinspeople,  that  they 
had  not  altogether  forgotten  her,  and  that  the 
speaker  had  come  to  bring  her  gifts  from  them. 
Doubtfully  she  nodded. 

"  I  saw  Tecumseh  two  months  ago,"  went  on  Cap- 
tain Brito,  "  and  I  saw  you,  too."  He  smiled  en- 
gagingly. "  You  were  outside  Tecumseh's  lodge 
as  I  came  out  and  I  remember  wishing  that  my  new 
cousin  might  prove  to  be  half  as  charming.  Of 
course  I  did  not  know  you.  Tecumseh  told  me  that 
he  knew  where  Delaroche's  daughter  was,  but  he 
refused  to  tell  me  anything  more.  He  said  he  would 
produce  her  in  two  months."  Captain  Brito's  face 
darkened.  "  These  Indians  are  very  insolent,  but 
— Well,  I  waited  for  a  time,  but  when  Tecumseh 
went  away  I  made  inquiries,  and  Girty  here  found 
you  for  me.  I  can't  tell  you  how  delighted  I  am 
to  find  that  you  and  the  charming  little  girl  I  saw 
outside  the  lodge  are  one  and  the  same.  It  makes 
everything  delightful." 

Alagwa's  head  was  whirling.  For  ten  years, 
practically  all  of  her  life  that  she  could  remember, 
she  had  lived  the  life  of  an  Indian  with  no  thought 
outside  of  the  Indians.  She  had  rejoiced  with  their 
joys,  and  grieved  with  their  woes.  Like  them  she 
had  hated  the  Americans  from  the  south  and  haii 
looked  upon  the  English  on  the  north  as  her  friends. 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  43 

And  now  abruptly  another  life  had  opened  before 
her.  A  redcoat  officer  had  claimed  her  as  kins- 
woman. The  easy,  casual,  semi-contemptuous  air 
with  Avhich  he  spoke  scarcely  affected  her,  for  she 
had  been  used  to  concede  the  supremacy  of  man. 
She  did  not  know  what  this  claim  might  portend, 
but  it  made  her  happy.  No  thought  that  she  might 
have  to  leave  her  Indian  home  had  yet  crossed  her 
mind.  Brito's  assertion  that  he  had  come  to  take 
her  to  France  had  not  yet  seeped  into  her  under- 
standing. To  her  France  and  England  were  little 
more  than  words. 

Uncertainly  she  smiled.  "  I  am  glad,"  she  mur- 
mured. 

Captain  Brito  took  her  hand  and  raised  it  to  his 
lips.  "  You  will  be  more  than  glad  when  you  under- 
stand," he  declared,  patronizingly.  "  Of  course  you 
can't  realize  what  a  change  this  means  for  you." 
He  glanced  round  and  shuddered.  "  After  this — = 
ugh — England  and  France  will  be  paradise  to  you. 
Get  ready  and  as  soon  as  Tecumseh  comes  back  and 
gives  me  the  proofs  of  your  identity  I'll  take  you 
to  Canada  and  then  on  to  England." 

Alagwa  shrank  back.  "  I?  To  England?  "  she 
gasped. 

"Of  course."  Captain  Brito  smiled.  "All  of 
your  house  are  loyal  Englishmen  and  you  must  be 
a  loyal  Englishwoman.  You  really  don't  know  what 


44  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

a  wonderful  country  England  is.  It's  not  a  bit  like 
this  swampy,  forest-covered  Ohio.  And  the  people — 
Oh !  Well !  you'll  find  them  very  different  from  the 
Indians  and  from  the  bullying  murdering  Americans. 
You'll  learn  to  be  a  great  lady  in  England,  you 
know." 

A  shadow  fell  between  the  two,  and  an  Indian, 
naked  save  for  a  breech-clout  and  for  the  eagle 
feathers  rising  from  his  scalp-lock,  thrust  himself 
between  the  girl  and  the  intruders. 

"  White  men  go ! "  he  ordered,  in  Shawnee. 
"  Take  presents  and  go !  " 

Brito's  face  flushed  brick-red.  He  did  not  under- 
stand the  words,  but  he  could  not  mistake  the  tone. 
His  hand  fell  to  his  sword  hilt.  Instantly,  how- 
ever, Girty  stepped  between.  "  Why  does  the  Chief 
Wilwiloway  interfere?  "  he  demanded. 

Wilwiloway  leaned  forward,  his  fierce  eyes  glit- 
tering into  those  of  the  renegade.  "  Tecumseh  say 
white  men  no  speak  to  Alagwa.  White  men  go !  " 
he  ordered  again.  His  words  came  like  a  low  growl. 

For  a  moment  the  others  hesitated.  Then  Brito 
nodded  and  said  something  to  Girty  and  the  latter 
drew  back,  snarling  but  yielding.  Brito  himself 
turned  to  Alagwa.  "  Good-by,  cousin,"  he  called. 
"  Since  this — er — gentleman  objects  I'll  have  to  go. 
With  your  permission  I'll  return  later — when 
Tecumseh  is  back."  With  a  smile  and  a  bow  he 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  45 

turned  away.  He  knew  he  could  not  afford  to  quar- 
rel with  Tecumseh  until  he  had  secured  the  proofs  of 
the  girl's  identity. 

Wilwiloway  called  Girty  back.  "  Take  presents," 
he  ordered,  pointing;  and  with  a  savage  curse  the 
man  obeyed. 

Wilwiloway  watched  them  go.  Then  he  turned 
to  Alagwa  and  his  face  softened.  "  They  are  bad 
men,"  he  said,  gently.  "  Their  words  are  forked. 
Tecumseh  commands  that  Alagwa  shall  not  speak 
with  them." 

The  girl-  did  not  look  altogether  submissive. 
Nevertheless  she  nodded.  "  Alagwa  will  remember." 
she  promised.  "  Yet  surely  Tecumseh  is  deceived. 
The  white  man  speaks  with  a  straight  tongue.  He 
brings  Alagwa  great  tidings.  And  the  redcoats 
are  the  friends  of  the  Shawnees." 

The  Indian  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Tecumseh 
speaks ;  Alagwa  must  obey !  "  he  declared,  bluntly. 
Then  he  turned  away,  leaving  the  girl  to  wonder — 
quite  as  mightily  as  if  she  had  lived  all  her  life 
among  her  civilized  sisters. 

How  long  she  stood  and  wondered  she  never  knew. 
Abruptly  she  was  roused  by  a  sound  of  voices  from 
the  direction  of  the  southern  outposts.  Steadily 
the  sound  grew,  deepening  into  a  many-throated 
chant — the  chant  of  welcome  to  those  returning  from 
a  journey — the  chant  of  thanksgiving  that  those 


46  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

arriving  have  passed  safely  over  all  the  perils  of  the 
way: 

Greatly  startled  now  have  I  been  today 

By    your    voice    coming    through    the    woods    to    this 

clearing ; 

With  a  troubled  mind  have  you  come 
Through  obstacles  of  every  kind. 

Great  thanks,  therefore,  we  give,  that  safely 
You  have  arrived.     Now  then,  together, 
Let  both  of  us  smoke.     For  all  around  indeed 
Are  hostile  powers — 

Alagwa  spun  round.  She  knew  what  the  song 
meant — Tecumseh  was  returning. 

A  moment  later  he  passed  her,  striding  onward  to 
his  lodge.  His  face  was  stern — the  face  of  one  who 
goes  to  face  the  great  crisis  of  his  life.  Behind 
him  came  chief  after  chief,  warrior  after  warrior, 
members  of  many  tribes.  Versed  in  Indian  heraldry 
as  she  was,  Alagwa  could  not  read  half  the  ensigns 
there  foregathered. 


CHAPTER  IV 

FOR  nearly  a  month  Jack  Telfair,  with  black 
Cato  at  his  heels,  had  been  riding  northward 
through  a  country  recently  reclaimed  from 
the  wilderness  and  reduced  to  civilization.  Day 
after  day  he  passed  over  broad  well-beaten  roads 
from  village  to  village  and  from  farmstead  to  farm- 
stead, where  clucking  hens  and  lowing  cattle  had 
taken  the  place  of  Indian,  bear,  and  wildcat.  Be- 
tween, he  rode  through  long  stretches  of  wilderness, 
where  the  settlements  lay  farther  and  farther  apart 
and  the  ill-kept  way  grew  more  and  more  rugged 
and  silver-frosted  boulders  glistened  underfoot  in 
the  dawn. 

The  route  lay  wholly  west  of  the  Alleghenies  and 
the  travellers  had  to  climb  no  such  mighty  barrier 
as  that  which  stretched  between  the  Atlantic  and 
the  west.  But  the  land  steadily  rose,  and  day  by  day 
the  sunset  burned  across  increasing  hills.  The 
two  passed  Nashville — a  thriving  town  growing  like 
a  weed — and  came  at  last  to  the  Kentucky  border 
and  the  crest  of  the  watershed  between  the  Cumber- 
land and  the  Green  river.  Here,  cutting  across  the 
headwaters  of  a  deep,  narrow  creek,  ice  cold  and 
crystal  clear,  filled  with  the  dusky  shadows  of  dart- 
ing trout,  they  stumbled  into  the  deep-cut  trail 

47 


48  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

travelled  for  centuries  by  Indian  warriors  bound 
south  from  beyond  the  Ohio  to  wage  war  on  tribes 
living  along  the  Atlantic  and  the  Gulf.  This  trail 
was  nearly  a  thousand  miles  long ;  one  branch  started 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi  and  the  other  from 
the  Virginia  seaboard,  and  the  two  met  in  southern 
Kentucky,  crossed  the  Ohio,  and  followed  the  Miami 
toward  the  western  end  of  Lake  Erie.  Jack  had  only 
to  follow  it  to  reach  his  destination. 

Like  all  Indian  pathways,  the  trail  clung  to  the 
highest  ground,  following  the  route  that  was  driest 
in  rain,  clearest  of  snow  in  winter  and  of  brush  and 
leaves  in  summer,  and  least  subject  to  forest  fires. 
Much  of  it  was  originally  lined  out  by  buffalo, 
which  found  the  way  of  least  resistance  as  instinct- 
ively as  the  red  men,  but  long  stretches  of  it  had 
been  made  by  the  Indians  alone.  The  buffalo  trail 
was  broad  and  deep  and  was  worn  five  or  six  feet 
into  the  soil ;  the  Indian  trail  was  in  few  places  more 
than  a  foot  deep  and  was  so  narrow  that  it  was  im- 
possible to  see  more  than  a  rod  along  it.  No 
one  could  traverse  it  without  breaking  the  twigs  and 
branches  of  the  dense  bushes  that  overhung  it  on 
either  side,  leaving  a  record  that  to  the  keen  eye 
of  the  savage  and  of  the  woodsman  was  eloquent  to 
the  number  who  had  passed  and  the  time  of  their 
passage.  No  one  who  once  travelled  its  vistaless 
stretches  could  fail  to  understand  the  ease  with 
which  ambushes  and  surprises  could  be  effected. 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  49 

Though  the  trail  clung  to  high  ground  the  ex- 
igencies of  destination  compelled  it  in  places  to  go 
down  into  the  valleys.  It  had  to  descend  to  cross 
the  Kentucky  river  and  to  descend  again  into  the 
valley  of  the  Licking  as  it  approached  the  Ohio  at 
Cincinnati.  In  such  places  it  had  often  been  over- 
flowed and  obliterated  and  its  route  was  far  less 
definite.  However,  this  no  longer  mattered,  for  in 
all  such  parts  it  had  long  been  incorporated  into 
the  white  man's  road.  Much  of  it,  however,  still 
endured  and  was  to  endure  for  more  than  a  hundred 
years.  Beyond  the  Ohio  it  climbed  once  more  and 
followed  the  crest  of  the  divide  between  Great  and 
Little  Miami  rivers  to  Dayton,  Piqua,  and  Wapa- 
koneta. 

Thirty  years  before  men  had  fought  their  way 
over  every  inch  of  that  trail,  dying  by  scores  along 
it  from  the  arrow,  the  tomahawk,  and  the  bullet. 
But  that  had  been  thirty  years  before.  For  twenty 
years  the  trail  had  been  safe  as  far  as  the  Ohio ;  for 
ten  it  had  been  measurably  safe  halfway  up  the 
state,  to  the  edge  of  the  Indian  country. 

Throughout  the  journey  Jack  tried  hard  to  be 
mournful.  Every  dawn  as  he  opened  his  eyes  on  a 
world  new  created,  vivid,  baptized  with  the  con- 
secration of  the  dew,  he  reminded  himself  that  life 
could  hold  no  happiness  for  him — since  Sally  Haber- 
sham  had  given  her  hand  to  another.  Every  noon- 
tide as  he  saw  the  fields  swelling  with  the  growing 
4 


50  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

grain,  the  apples  shaping  themselves  out  of  the  air, 
the  vagrant  butterflies  seeking  their  painted  mates 
above  the  deep,  moist,  clover-carpeted  meadows,  he 
told  himself  that  for  him  alone  all  the  vast  processes 
of  nature  had  ceased.  Every  evening,  when  the  land- 
scape smouldered  in  the  setting  sun,  when  the  red 
lights  burned  across  the  tips  of  the  waving  grasses, 
when  the  burnished  pines  pointed  aspiringly  higher, 
when  the  rushing  rapids  on  the  chance  streams  glit- 
tered in  sparkling  points  of  multi-colored  fire,  he 
assured  himself  that  to  himself  there  remained  only 
the  hard,  straight  path  of  duty. 

Yet,  in  spite  of  himself,  the  edge  of  his  grief 
grew  slowly  but  surely  dull.  The  bourgeoning 
forests,  the  swelling  mountains,  the  vast  stretches 
of  solitude  were  all  so  many  veils  stretched  between 
him  and  the  past.  His  love  for  Sally  Habersham 
did  not  lessen,  perhaps,  but  it  became  unreal,  like 
the  memory  of  a  dear,  dead  dream  that  held  no  bitter- 
ness. It  was  hard  to  brood  on  the  life  of  gallant 
and  lady,  of  silver  and  damask,  of  polished  floors 
and  stately  minuets,  when  his  every  waking  minute 
had  to  be  spent  in  meeting  the  intensely  practical 
problems  that  beset  the  pioneers.  It  was  hard  to 
assure  himself  that  he  would  live  and  die  virgin 
and  that  his  house  should  die  with  him,  when,  as 
often  as  not,  he  dropped  off  to  sleep  in  the  same 
house,  if  not  the  same  room,  with  a  dozen  or  more 
sturdy  boys  and  girls  that  were  being  raised  by  one 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  51 

of  those  same  pioneers  and  his  no  less  vigorous  wife. 

Besides,  Cato  would  not  let  him  brood.  Cato  had 
feminine  problems  of  his  own  which  he  insisted  on 
submitting  to  his  master's  judgment.  When  re- 
buffed, he  preserved  an  injured  silence  till  he  judged 
that  Jack's  mood  had  softened  and  then  returned 
blandly  to  the  charge.  Very  early  on  the  trip  Jack 
gave  up  in  despair  all  attempts  to  check  his  menial's 
tongue;  he  realized  that  nothing  short  of  death 
would  do  this,  and  he  could  not  afford  to  murder  his 
only  companion,  though  he  often  felt  as  if  he  would 
like  to  do  it. 

"  There  ain't  no  use  a  talkin',  Marse  Jack,"  Cato 
observed  one  day.  "  The  onliest  way  to  git  along 
with  a  woman  is  to  keep  her  a-guessin'.  Jes'  so  long 
as  she  don'  know  whar  you  is  or  what  you's  a- 
thinkin',  you's  all  right.  But  the  minute  she  finds 
out  whar  you  is,  then  whar  is  you?  Dat's  what 
I  ax  you,  Marse  Jack?  " 

Jack  shook  his  head  abstractedly.  "  I'm  sure  I 
don't  know,  Cato,"  he  said.  "  Where  are  you?  " 

"  You  am'  nowhar,  that's  what  you  is.  Dar  was 
Colonel  Jackson's  gal  Sue.  Mu  m  u  m  ph !  Couldn't 
dat  gal  make  de  beatenest  waffles !  An'  didn't  she 
make  'em  foh  me  for  most  fo'  months  till  I  done  ax 
her  to  marry  me?  An'  didn't  she  stop  makin'  'em 
right  spang  off?  An'  didn't  she  keep  on  stoppin' 
till  I  tuk  up  with  Sophy  ?  An'  then  didn't  she  begin 
again?  Yes,  suh;  it's  jes*  like  I'm  tellin*  you.  Jes' 


52  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

as  long  as  a  woman  thinks  she's  got  you,  you  ain't 
nobody ;  and  the  minute  she  thinks  some  other  gal's 
got  you,  then  you's  everything.  Talk  to  me  about 
love !  Gals  don't  know  what  love  is.  All  they  wants 
is  to  spite  the  other  gals." 

"  Well !  How  did  you  make  out,  Cato.  Did  you 
fix  on  Sue  or  Sophy  ?  " 

"  Now,  Marse  Jack,  you  know  I  ain't  a-goin'  to 
throw  myself  away  on  none  of  them  black  nigger 
gals.  I'se  too  light  complected  to  do  that,  suh.  Be- 
sides, Sue  and  Sophy  done  disappointed  me.  They 
pointedly  did,  suh.  Jes'  as  I  was  a-makin'  up  my 
mind  to  marry  Mandy — Mandy  is  dat  yaller  gal 
of  Major  Habersham's;  I  done  met  her  when  you 
was  co'ting  Miss  Sally — Sue  and  Sophy  got  to- 
gether and  went  to  Massa  Telfair  and  tole  him 
about  it  and  Massa  Telfair  say  I  done  got  to  marry 
one  of  them  two  inside  a  week,  an'  if  you  hadn't  done 
start  off  so  sudden  I  reckon's  I'd  a  been  married 
and  done  foh  befo'  now,  suh.  Massa  Telfair's 
plumb  sot  in  his  ways,  suh." 

Jack  was  tired  of  the  talk.  "  Oh !  Well !  I  reckon 
Mandy'll  be  waiting  for  you  when  you  get  back," 
he  answered,  idly. 

Cato  smiled  broadly.  "  Ain't  dat  de  trufe?  "  he 
chuckled,  delightedly.  "  I  ain't  ax  Mandy  yit, 
but  she  'spec's  me  to.  I  tell  you,  Marse  Jack,  you 
got  to  keep  'em  guessin',  yes,  you  is,  suh.  Jes'  as 
long  as  you  does  you  got  'em." 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  53 

Cato  rung  the  changes  on  his  tale  with  infinite 
variations.  Jack  heard  about  Sue  and  Sophonia 
and  Maudy  from  Alabama  to  Ohio,  from  the  Tala- 
poosa  to  the  Miami.  It  was  only  when  he  reached 
Dayton  that  the  loves  of  his  henchman  were  pushed 
into  the  background  by  more  urgent  affairs. 

Dayton  was  alive  with  the  war  fever.  Governor 
Hull,  of  Michigan,  who  had  been  appointed  a  briga- 
dier general,  had  started  north  from  there  nearly  a 
month  before  with  thirty-five  hundred  volunteers 
and  regulars  and  was  now  one  hundred  miles  to  the 
north,  cutting  his  way  laboriously  through  the 
vast  forest  of  the  Black  Swamp.  At  last  reports 
he  had  reached  Blanchard  River,  and  had  built  a 
fort  which  he  called  Fort  Findlay.  So  far  as  Ohio 
knew  war  had  not  yet  been  declared,  but  news  that 
it  had  been  was  expected  daily.  The  whole  state 
awaited  it  in  apprehension,  not  from  fear  of  the 
British,  but  from  terror  of  their  ruthless  red  allies. 

Not  a  man  or  woman  in  all  Ohio  but  knew  what 
Indian  warfare  meant.  Not  one  but  could  remember 
the  silent  midnight  attack  on  the  sleeping  farm- 
house, the  blazing  rooftree,  the  stark,  gashed  forms 
that  had  once  been  men  and  women  and  little  chil- 
dren, the  wiping  out  of  the  labor  of  years  in  a  single 
hour. 

Every  sight  and  sound  of  forest  and  of  prairie 
mimicked  the  clash.  The  hammering  of  the  wood- 
pecker was  the  pattering  of  bullets,  the  thump  of 


54  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

the  beaver  was  the  thud  of  the  tomahawk,  the  scream 
of  the  fishhawk  the  shriek  of  dying  women,  the  scold- 
ing of  the  chipmunks  in  the  long  grass  the  chatter 
of  the  squaws  around  the  torture  post,  the  red  re- 
flection of  the  setting  sun  the  gleam  of  blazing  roof- 
trees. 

Ah !  Yes !  Ohio  knew  what  Indian  war  meant. 
And  Cato,  for  the  first  time,  realized  whither  he 
was  going.     He  ceased  to  talk  of  his  sweethearts 
and  began  to  pray  for  his  soul. 

At  last  Jack  came  to  Piqua.  Piqua  stood  close 
to  the  boundary  of  the  Indian  country,  which  then 
spread  over  the  whole  northwestern  quarter  of  Ohio. 
North  of  it  lay  the  great  Black  Swamp,  through 
which  roved  thousands  of  Indians,  nominally  peace- 
ful, but  potentially  dangerous.  At  Piqua,  too,  dwelt 
Colonel  John  Johnson,  the  United  States  Indian 
agent,  whose  business  it  was  to  keep  them  quiet. 

As  Jack  rode  into  the  outskirts  of  the  tiny  scat- 
tered village,  a  middle-aged  man  with  long,  gray 
whiskers,  skull  cap,  and  buckskin  trousers  came 
up  to  him. 

"Hello,  stranger!"  he  bawled.  "What's  the 
news?  " 

Jack  reined  in.  "  Sorry,  but  I  haven't  any,"  he 
replied. 

"  Whar  you  from?  " 

"  From  Dayton  and  the  south." 

"  Sho!    Ain't  Congress  declared  war  yet?  " 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  55 

"  Not  that  I  know  of.  The  last  news  from  Wash- 
ington was  that  they  were  still  debating." 

"Debatin'?  Well!  I  just  reckon  they  are  de- 
batin'.  Lord  sakes,  stranger,  don't  it  make  you 
sick  and  tired  to  hear  a  lot  of  full  grown  men  a- 
talkin'  and  a-talkin'  like  a  pack  of  women.  Just 
say  what  you  got  to  say  and  stop ;  that's  my  motto. 
And  here's  Congress  a-talkin'  and  a-talkin'  and  a- 
wastin'  time  while  the  Injuns  are  fillin'  up  with 
fire-water  and  sharpenin'  their  tomahawks  and  the 
country's  going  to  the  devil.  Strike  first,  and  talk 
afterwards,  say  I.  But  then  I  never  was  much  of 
one  to  talk.  I  guess  livin'  in  the  woods  makes  you 
kinder  silent,  and " 

"What's  the  news  from  the  north?"  Hopeless 
of  a  pause  in  the  old  man's  garrulity  Jack  broke  in. 

The  old  man  accepted  the  interruption  with  en- 
tire good  humor  if  not  with  pleasure,  and  straight- 
way started  on  a  new  discourse.  "  Bad,  bad,  mighty 
bad,  stranger,"  he  declared.  "  That  red  devil, 
Tecumseh,  has  been  a-traveling  about  the  country 
but  he's  back  now  and  the  Injuns  are  getting  ready 
to  play  thunder  with  everybody.  Colonel  Johnson 
says  you  ought  to  treat  'em  kind  and  honeyswoggle 
'em  all  the  time,  but  that  ain't  my  way,  and  it 
ain't  the  way  of  nobody  that  knows  Injuns.  How 
far  north  is  you  aimin'  to  go,  stranger?  " 

"  To  Wapakoneta,  I  think." 

"  Then  I  reckon  you'll  have  to  see  Colonel  John- 


56  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

son.  What  did  you  say  your  name  was?  Mine's 
Rogers — Tom  Rogers." 

Jack  grinned.  "  I  didn't  say,"  He  answered. 
"  But  it's  Jack  Telfair." 

"  Telfair !  Telfair !  Seems  to  me  I  kinder  re- 
member hearin'  of  somebody  of  that  name.  But 
it's  mighty  long  ago.  Let's  see,  now,  I  wonder 
could  it  ha'  been  that  fellow  that  we  whipped  for 
stealin' — Pshaw,  no,  that  was  a  fellow  named 
Helden.  He  was " 

"  Where'll  I  find  Colonel  Johnson,"  demanded 
Jack,  in  despair. 

"  Well,  now,  that's  mighty  hard  to  tell.  Colonel 
Johnson  sloshes  round  a  whole  lot.  Maybe  you'll 
find  him  at  John  Manning's  mill  up  at  the  bend  here 
or  maybe  you'll  have  to  go  to  his  place  at  Upper 
Piqua  or  maybe  you'll  have  to  go  further.  I  reckon 
you  didn't  stop  at  Stanton  as  you  come  along,  did 
you?  Colonel  Johnson's  mighty  thick  with  Levy 
Martin  down  there,  and  he's  liable  to  be  at  his 
house,  or  at  Peter  Felix's  store." 

Jack  shook  his  head.  "  No,  I  didn't  come  by 
Stanton." 

By  this  time  a  number  of  other  white  men  had 
come  up.  The  old  hunter  insisted  on  making  Jack 
known  to  all  of  them.  Jack  heard  the  names  of 
Sam  Hilliard,  Job  Garrard,  Andrew  Dye,  Joshua 
Robbins,  Daniel  Cox,  and  several  others.  All  of 
them  were  anxious  for  news  in  regard  to  the  coming 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  57 

war,  and  all  shook  their  heads  dubiously  when  they 
heard  that  Jack  proposed  to  go  further  north. 

"  It's  taking  your  life  in  your  hands  these  days, 
youngster,"  remarked  Andrew  Dye,  a  patriarchal- 
looking  old  man.  "  There's  ten  thousand  Injuns 
pretendin'  to  be  tame  between  here  and  Wapakoneta 
and  the  devil  only  knows  how  many  more  there  are 
north  of  it.  Tecumseh's  sort  of  civilized,  but  his 
Shawnees  ain't  Tecumseh  by  a  long  shot.  And 
them  d —  British  are  stirrin'  'em  up.  Course  you 
may  get  there  all  right,  but  when  you  go  trampin* 
in  where  angels  are  'fraid  to,  you're  mighty  apt  to 
get  turned  into  an  angel  yourself." 

"  I  guess  I've  got  to  go,"  said  Jack.  "  I  want 
to  get  somebody  who  knows  the  country  to  go  along 
with  me." 

"  What's  the  matter  with  me?  "  broke  in  Rogers. 
"  I  ain't  a-pining  to  lose  my  scalp,  but  I  reckon  if 
I  won't  go  nobody  will.  And  I  don't  want  no  big 
pay  neither.  You  and  me'll  agree  on  terms  mighty 
easy.  I  can  take  you  anywhere.  I  know  all  the 
Injuns.  Why!  Lord!  They  call  me " 

Job  Garrard  laughed.  "  Yes,"  he  said.  "  Tom 
can  take  you  anywhere.  Tom's  always  willing  to 
stick  in.  He  stuck  in  on  Judge  Blank's  court  down 
in  Dayton  the  other  day,  didn't  you,  Tom?  Haw! 
Haw!  Haw!" 

A  burst  of  laughter  ran  round  the  group.  Every- 
body laughed  indeed,  except  Tom  himself.  "  You 


58  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

boys  think  you're  blamed  funny,"  he  tried  to  inter- 
pose. 

But  the  others  would  not  hear  him. 

"  Maybe  you  heard  something  about  it  as  you 
come  through  Dayton,  stranger ! "  said  Dye. 
"  Tom  tromped  right  into  court  and  he  heard  the 
judge  dressin'  down  two  young  lawyers  that  had 
got  to  fussin*.  I  reckon  Tom  had  been  a-practicin' 
at  another  bar,  for  he  yells  out :  '  Give  it  to  'em,  old 
gimlet  eyes.'  The  judge  stops  short.  *  Who's 
that  ?  '  he  asked.  Tom  thinks  he's  going  to  ask  him 
upon  the  bench  or  something  and  he  steps  out  an' 
says:  *  It's  this  yer  old  hoss ! '  The  judge  he 
looks  at  him  for  a  minute  an'  then  he  calls  the 
sheriff  and  says,  *  Sheriff,  take  this  old  hoss  out  and 
put  him  in  a  stall  and  lock  the  stable  up  and  see 
that  he  don't  get  stole  before  to-morrow  mornin'. 
And  the  sheriff  done  it,  too.  Haw !  Haw !  Haw !  " 

The  laughter  was  interrupted  by  the  appearance 
of  a  wagon  drawn  by  mules  and  driven  by  a  man 
who  looked  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left. 

Rogers,  glad  of  any  change  of  subject,  jumped 
forward.  "  Hey !"  he  yelled.  "  What's  the  news  ?" 

The  driver  paid  no  attention  to  the  call.  His 
companion  on  the  box,  however,  leaned  out.  "Go 
to  h — 1,  you  old  grand-daddy  long  legs,"  he 
yelled. 

The  old  hunter's  leathery  cheek  reddened.  But 
before  he  could  retort  a  horseman  appeared  in  the 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  59 

road  in  front  of  the  wagon  and  threw  up  his  hand. 

"  Hold  on,  boys,"  he  called.  "  Hold  on !  I  want 
to  speak  to  you.'* 

The  driver  hesitated;  then,  compelled  by  some- 
thing in  the  eyes  of  the  man,  he  sulkily  reined  in. 
As  he  did  so  Jack  and  the  little  crowd  about  him 
moved  over  to  the  wagon. 

"  I'm  Tom  Rich,  deputy  of  Colonel  Johnson,  the 
Indian  agent  up  here,"  the  horseman  was  explaining, 
peaceably.  "  Colonel  Johnson's  away  just  now  and 
I've  got  to  see  everybody  that  goes  north  to  trade 
with  the  Injuns." 

"  We  ain't  going  to  trade  with  no  Injuns,"  said 
the  man  who  appeared  to  be  the  leader.  "  We're 
taking  supplies  to  Fort  Wayne  for  the  Government. 
I  reckon  you  ain't  got  no  call  to  stop  us." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,  boys.  Not  a  bit  of  it.  Just 
let  me  see  your  papers  and  you  can  go  right  along." 

The  man  sought  in  his  pockets  and  finally  ex- 
tracted a  paper  which  he  passed  to  Rich,  who 
scanned  it  carefully.  "  Your  name's  David  Wolf, 
is  it?  "  he  questioned,  "  and  your  friend's  name  is 
Henry  Williams?" 

"  That's  right  and  we  ain't  got  no  time  to  waste. 
There  ain't  no  tellin'  when  war'll  be  declared 
an' " 

"No!  There's  no  telling.  You  can  go  along  if 
you  want  to,  but  I've  got  to  warn  you — warn  all  of 
you."  Rich's  eye  swept  the  group.  "  We  got  news 


60  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

• 

this  morning  that  there  was  a  big  council  at  Wapa- 
koneta  last  night.  There  was  a  British  officer  there 
in  uniform  and  he  and  Tecumseh  tried  to  get  the 
Shawnees  to  go  north.  Black  Hoof  (Catahecasa) 
stood  out  against  them,  and  our  news  is  that  less 
than  two  hundred  braves  went.  Still,  there's  no  tell- 
ing, and  the  country's  dangerous.  Colonel  John- 
son's at  Wapakoneta  now.  Better  wait  till  he  gets 
back." 

"  Wait  nothinV  Wolf  spat  loudly  into  the  road. 
"  General  Hull  rushed  us  here  with  supplies  for 
Fort  Wayne  and  we're  going  through.  If  any 
darned  Injun  gets  in  our  way  he  won't  stay  in  it 
long.  My  pluck  is  to  shoot  first  and  question  after." 

The  deputy's  brow  grew  stern.  "  You'll  be  very 
careful  who  you  shoot  and  when,"  he  ordered, 
sternly.  "  A  single  Indian  murdered  by  a  white 
man  might  set  the  border  in  flames  and  turn  thou- 
sands of  friendly  Indians  against  us.  I'll  let  you 
go  through,  but  I  warn  you  that  if  you  shoot  any 
Indians  without  due  cause  Colonel  Johnson  will 
see  that  you  hang  for  it.  We've  got  the  safety  of 
hundreds  of  white  people  to  consider  and  we're  not 
going  to  have  them  endangered  by  any  recklessness 
of  yours.  You  understand?  " 

Wolf  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  I  reckon  so," 
he  muttered. 

"  All   right,  see  that  you  heed."     Rich  turned 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  61 

away  from  the  men  and  greeted  Jack.  "  And  where 
are  you  bound,  sir?  "  he  asked  smilingly. 

"  I'm  looking  for  Colonel  Johnson,"  returned 
Jack.  "  I'm  looking  for  a  young  lady  who  was  to 
have  been  left  in  his  care.  Have  you  heard  any- 
thing about  her." 

"  A  young  lady  ?  "  The  deputy  stared ;  then  he 
laughed.  "  No !  I'm  not  young  enough,"  he  re- 
marked, cryptically. 

"  Then,  with  your  permission  I'll  just  tag  along 
after  our  crusty  friends  in  the  wagon." 

The  deputy  hesitated.  "  I  have  no  power  to  stop 
you,"  he  said.  "  But  you'd  better  wait  here  for 
Colonel  Johnson." 

"  I  can't.  The  matter  is  urgent.  Come, 
Cato !  So  long,  boys ! "  Jack  nodded  to  the 
group  around  him,  shook  his  bridle  and  cantered 
off  after  the  wagon,  which  had  just  vanished  among 
the  trees. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  close  of  the  Revolution  had  brought  no 
cessation  of  British  intrigue  along  the 
northern  frontier.  The  British  did  not  be- 
lieve the  confederacy  of  states  would  endure.  In 
any  event  the  western  frontier  was  uncertain ;  miles 
upon  miles  of  territory — land  enough  for  a  dozen 
principalities — lay  open  to  whoever  should  first 
grasp  it.  Treaties  were  mere  paper;  possession 
was  everything.  Colonization  in  western  Canada 
had  always  lagged  and  the  British  could  supply  no 
white  barrier  to  hold  back  the  resistless  tide  that 
was  rolling  up  from  the  south.  But  this  very  dearth 
of  colonists  was  in  a  way  an  advantage,  for  it  pre- 
vented the  pressure  on  the  Indians  for  lands  that 
had  caused  perpetual  war  further  south.  Desiring 
to  check  the  Americans  rather  than  to  advance  their 
own  lines  the  British,  through  McKee  and  other 
agents,  poured  out  money  to  win  the  friendship  of 
the  Indians.  Arms,  ammunition,  provisions,  gew- 
gaws in  abundance  were  always  ready.  In  the  five 
years  before  the  breaking  out  of  the  War  of  1812 
probably  more  than  half  the  Indians  about  the 
Great  Lakes  had  visited  one  British  post  or  another 
in  Canada  and  had  come  back  home  loaded  with 
presents.  The  policy  was  wise,  even  if  not  humane. 
62 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  68 

When  the  conflict  came  it  was  to  save  Canada,  which 
without  Indian  aid  would  have  been  lost  forever  to 
the  British  crown. 

South  of  Canada,  within  the  borders  of  the  United 
States,  ten  thousand  Indians  hung  in  the  balance, 
ready  to  be  swayed  by  a  hair.  They  were  friendly 
to  the  British,  and  they  hated  the  Americans.  But 
they  feared  them,  also — feared  the  men  who  had 
fought  and  bled  and  died  as  they  forced  their  way 
westward  past  all  resistance.  Some  would  go  north 
at  the  first  word  of  war,  but  most  would  stay  quiet, 
awaiting  results. 

The  first  British  triumph,  however  small,  would 
call  hundreds  of  them  to  the  British  standard;  a 
great  British  triumph  would  call  them  forth  in 
thousands. 

Tecumseh  was  the  head  and  front  of  those 
Indians  who  favored  war.  For  years  he  had  urged 
that  the  red  men  should  unite  in  one  great  league 
and  should  establish  a  line  beyond  which  the  white 
man  must  not  advance.  Behind  this,  no  foot  of  land 
was  to  be  parted  with  without  the  unanimous  con- 
sent of  all  the  tribes.  Two  long  journeys  had  he 
made,  travelling  swiftly,  tireless  as  a  wolf,  from 
one  tribe  to  another,  from  Illinois  to  Virginia,  from 
Florida  to  New  York,  welding  all  red  men  into  a 
vast  confederacy  that  in  good  time  would  rise 
against  the  ever-aggressive  white  man,  crush  his 
outposts,  sweep  back  his  lines,  and  establish  a  great 


64  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

Indian  empire  that  would  hold  him  back  forever. 

A  year  before  he  had  brought  his  plans  nearly  to 
perfection.  He  had  accumulated  great  quantities  of 
arms  and  ammunition  and  supplies  at  the  town  of 
his  brother,  the  Prophet,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Wabash,  and  had  set  out  on  his  first  long  journey— 
a  journey  that  was  intended  to  rivet  fast  the  league 
his  emissaries  had  built.  But  he  had  gotten  back 
to  find  that  Harrison,  the  white  chief,  had  struck  in 
his  absence,  had  defeated  and  scattered  his  chosen 
warriors,  had  destroyed  his  town,  and  had  blotted 
out  the  work  of  three  long  years. 

All  afternoon  long,  from  the  protection  of  a  near- 
by cabin,  Alagwa  watched  that  of  Tecumseh,  seeing 
the  chiefs  come  and  go.  Simon  Girty  and  the  man 
in  the  red  coat  were  among  them. 

When  at  last  the  sun  was  setting  and  the  ridge 
poles  of  the  cabin  were  outlined  against  the  swirl 
of  rose-colored  cloud  that  hung  in  the  west, 
Tecumseh  sent  for  her. 

Pushing  through  the  mantle  of  skins  that  formed 
the  door  she  found  the  great  chief  sitting  cross- 
legged  in  the  semi-gloom.  Silently  she  sank  down 
before  him  and  waited. 

For  a  long  time  Tecumseh  smoked  on  in  silence.  At 
last  he  spoke,  using  the  Shawnee  tongue,  despite 
the  fact  that  he  was  a  master  of  English  and  that 
Alagwa  spoke  it  also,  though  not  fluently.  "  Little 
daughter,"  he  began.  "  For  ten  years  you  have 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  65 

dwelt  in  Tecumseh's  cabin  and  have  eaten  at  his 
fireside.  The  time  has  come  for  you  to  leave  him 
and  take  a  trail  of  your  own." 

Startled,  with  quivering  lips  and  tear-filled  eyes, 
Alagwa  threw  herself  forward.  "Why?  Why? 
Why  ?  "  she  cried.  "  What  has  Alagwa  done  that 
Tecumseh  should  send  her  away?  " 

"  Alagwa  has  done  nothing.  Tecumseh  does  not 
send  her  away.  And  yet  she  must  go.  Listen,  little 
daughter,  and  I  will  tell  you  a  tale.  Some  of  it  you 
have  heard  already  from  the  redcoat  chief  who 
spoke  to  you  to-day  against  my  will.  The  rest 
you  shall  hear  now. 

"  Ten  years  ago,  your  father  left  you  in  my 
care.  His  name  was  Delaroche  Telfair,  a  French- 
man, a  Manaouioui.  He  came  of  a  great  chief's 
family,  from  far  across  the  water.  All  the  chiefs 
of  his  house  are  now  dead  and  all  their  lands  have 
come  down  to  him  and  from  him  to  you.  If  you 
were  dead  the  lands  would  go  to  another  chief — the 
chief  Brito,  who  spoke  to  you  to-day.  Two  moons 
ago  this  chief  came  to  Tecumseh,  seeking  you  and 
speaking  fair  words  and  promising  all  things.  He 
is  the  servant  of  the  British  King  and  the  ally  of 
Tecumseh,  and  if  Tecumseh  were  free  to  choose, 
he  would  have  let  you  go  with  him  gladly.  But  he 
is  not  free.  Before  your  father  died  he  warned 
Tecumseh  against  Brito,  saying  of  him  all  things 
that  were  evil.  He  told  also  of  the  other  chiefs  of 
5 


66  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

his  house  who  dwelt  far  to  the  south,  near  the  great 
salt  water  and  near  the  ancient  home  of  the  Shawnee 
people  before  they  were  driven  northward  by  the 
whites.  He  begged  that  Tecumseh  should  put  you 
in  the  care  of  these  chiefs  rather  than  in  that  of  the 
chief  Brito.  Does  my  daughter  understand?  " 

Alagwa  bowed.  "  I  understand,  great  chief," 
she  answered,  breathlessly. 

"  Therefore  Tecumseh  bade  the  chief  Brito  wait 
until  he  should  return  from  a  journey.  He  stationed 
the  chief  Wilwiloway  to  watch  and  protect  you. 
For  many  moons  he  travelled.  His  moccasins  trod 
the  woods  and  the  prairies.  He  visited  the  Home 
of  his  friends'  people  by  the  far  south  sea.  Of 
them  one  is  a  young  white  chief,  handsome  and  brave 
and  skilful,  called  Te-pwe  (he  who  speaks  truth) 
by  the  Shawnees.  His  years  are  four  or  five  more 
than  Alagwa's.  Tecumseh  saw  him  and  gave  him  a 
belt  of  black  and  white  and  told  him  by  what  trail 
he  should  come  to  fetch  you.  The  young  chief 
took  the  belt  and  Tecumseh  hoped  to  find  him  here 
when  he  came.  But  he  has  not  come." 

Alagwa's  breast  was  heaving.  The  suggestion 
that  she  was  to  be  sent  far  south  into  the  land  of 
the  Americans  filled  her  with  terror.  She  had  been 
trained  in  the  stoicism  of  the  Indian  and  she  knew 
that  it  was  her  part  to  obey  in  silence,  accepting1 
the  words  of  the  chief,  but  her  white  blood  cried 
out  in  protest. 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  67 

The  chief  went  on.  "  Tecumseh  has  done  what 
he  can  to  keep  his  promise  to  his  friend.  But  now 
Tecumseh's  people  call  him  and  he  must  leave  all 
else  to  serve  them.  To-night  he  holds  a  great 
council  and  to-morrow  he  and  those  who  follow  him 
go  north  to  join  the  redcoats  and  fight  against  the 
Seventeen  Fires  (seventeen  states).  But  before  he 
goes  he  must  decide  what  to  do  with  Alagwa.  He 
can  not  take  her  north  with  him.  He  can  not  leave 
her  here,  for  that  would  be  to  give  her  to  the  chief 
Brito  whether  he  wished  it  or  not  and  whether 
she  wished  it  or  not.  Two  things  only  can  he  do. 
He  can  give  her  into  the  hands  of  her  father's  foe 
or  he  can  send  her  south  to  meet  the  young  white 
chief,  who  is  on  his  way  to  fetch  her.  Which  shall 
he  do,  little  daughter  ?  " 

Alagwa  sat  silent.  Scarcely  breathing,  she  strove 
desperately  to  think,  to  choose  between  the  courses 
of  action  that  Tecumseh  had  outlined,  but  the  throb- 
bing of  her  pulses  made  the  task  difficult.  In  her 
ears  was  the  roaring  of  deep  waters. 

Suddenly  a  flush  of  rage  swept  over  her  and  she 
sprang  to  her  feet.  "  I  will  not !  I  will  not !  "  she 
panted.  "  Am  I  a  dog  that  I  should  go  begging 
to  the  doors  of  the  Long  Knives  from  the  south. 
They  are  my  people's  foes  and  mine.  I  will  take 
nothing  from  them.  Neither  will  I  go  north  with 
the  man  whom  my  father  hated.  I  can  not  stay 
here,  the  great  chief  says?  Good!  I  will  go,  but 


68  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

I  will  go  to  fight  his  foes  and  mine.  I  am  a  woman 
and  I  can  not  travel  the  warpath.  But  surely  there 
is  some  other  way  for  me  to  help?  Can  not  the 
great  chief  lay  upon  me  some  task?  Is  there  not 
some  service  that  I  may  render  to  him  and  to  the 
people  who  took  me  in  when  I  was  a  child  and  who 
have  cared  for  me  these  many  moons  ?  "  Imploringly 
the  girl  stretched  out  her  hands. 

It  was  long  before  Tecumseh  answered.  But  at 
last  he  nodded.  "  It  is  just,"  he  said.  "  Your 
father  came  to  the  Shawnees  and  the  Shawnees  took 
him  in.  He  left  you  with  the  Shawnees,  and  the 
Shawnees  have  cared  for  you  as  one  of  themselves. 
Now  the  Shawnees  are  to  fight  for  their  lands  and 
for  the  lands  of  their  children  and  their  children's 
children.  It  is  right  that  you  should  help  them." 

Alagwa  drew  her  breath  sharply.  "  It  is  right," 
she  echoed.  "  Let  the  white  chief  take  my  lands. 
I  care  nothing  for  them.  My  heart  is  not  white. 
It  is  red,  red. 

Tecumseh  smiled.  "  Truly  have  the  people 
named  you  Bobapanawe  (Little  Lightning),'*  he 
said  slowly.  "  And  yet — Let  not  my  daughter  think 
that  this  is  a  small  matter.  It  is  a  very  great 
matter.  If  my  daughter  will " 

"  Oh !  I  will !  I  will !  "  Alagwa's  white  blood 
spoke  in  her  outcry.  No  Indian  woman  would  have 
interrupted  a  chief. 

Tecumseh  did  not  resent  the  outcry.     "  If  my 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  t>9 

daughter  will,  she  can  go  south,  not  as  Alagwa,  not 
as  a  Shawnee,  but  as  a  prisoner  escaping  from 
captivity.  As  such  she  can  get  and  send  word  of 
the  plans  and  doings  of  the  whites  to  Tecumseh  and 
the  redcoats  and  so  help  the  people  who  have 
fostered  her !  Will  my  daughter  do  this  ?  " 

Alagwa  did  not  hesitate.  To  her  all  Americans 
were  base  and  vile,  robbers  and  thieves.  "  I  will ! 
I  will,"  she  cried. 

"  It  is   well.      Perhaps   my  daughter  may  meet 

the  young  chief If  she  does,  let  her  join  herself 

to  him  and  follow  him.  He  should  not  be  far  from 
Wapakoneta.  All  Americans  are  robbers  and 
murderers  at  heart.  But  the  young  chief  is  not  as 
bad  as  most  of  them.  Alagwa  can  trust  him." 

But  the  girl  shook  her  head  stubbornly.  "  I  will 
trust  none  of  the  Long  Knives,"  she  protested. 

Tecumseh  ignored  the  refusal.  "  If  you  go  south 
as  a  spy  you  can  not  go  as  an  Indian,  nor  even  as  a 
woman,"  he  said.  "  You  must  go  as  a  white  and 
as  a  boy.  So  shall  you  pass  through  perils  that 
would  otherwise  overtake  you.  To-night  there  will  t 
be  a  great  council.  Wait  till  it  is  over.  Then 
dress  yourself  from  the  clothes  yonder " — he 
pointed  to  a  heap  at  the  side  of  the  cabin — "  and 
go  to  the  squaw  Wabetha  and  tell  her  to  cut  your 
hair  and  to  wash  the  paint  from  your  cheeks  and  to 
dress  you  as  a  boy.  Let  no  one  see  you,  for  your 
enemies  keep  close  watch.  The  chief  Wilwiloway 


70  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

will  come  for  you  at  dawn  and  will  go  with  you  to 
the  bend  of  the  Piqua  and  perhaps  farther.  Then 
you  must  shift  for  yourself.  From  time  to  time 
I  will  send  a  runner  to  bring  back  the  information 
you  gain." 

Alagwa  bowed.    "  It  is  well,"  she  said. 

The  chief  slipped  his  hand  into  the  braided  pouch 
that  hung  at  his  side  and  drew  forth  a  small  packet 
wrapped  in  doeskin.  From  it  he  took  a  flat  oval 
case  containing  the  miniature  of  a  lady  with  a 
proud,  beautiful  face,  a  chain  so  finely  woven  that 
the  links  could  scarcely  be  distinguished,  and  a 
packet  of  gold  coins  whose  value  even  Alagwa — 
child  o'f  the  forest  though  she  was — well  knew.  All 
of  them  he  handed  to  the  girl. 

"  Your  father  left  them,"  he  said.  "  Spend  the 
money,  but  keep  the  picture  safe.  Your  father  said 
it  would  prove  your  rights  if  need  be.  Hang  it 
around  your  neck  by  the  chain  and  show  it  to  no 
one  till  you  must.  Now,  farewell." 


CHAPTER  VI 

LITTLE  sleep  was  there  for  anyone  in  the 
Shawnee  camp  that  night.  Hour  after  hour 
the  witchdrums  boomed  and  the  leaping 
ghost  fires  flamed  to  the  far-off  blinking  stars. 
Hour  after  hour  the  thunderous  chanting  of  the 
braves  shivered  through  the  forest,  waking  the 
resting  birds  and  scaring  the  four-footed  prowlers 
of  the  night.  Hour  after  hour  the  chiefs  debated 
peace  and  war,  now  listening  to  the  words  of  the 
redcoat  emissary  of  the  British  king,  now  hearken- 
ing to  Tecumseh,  now  turning  ear  to  Catahecasa 
(Black  Hoof)  or  to  Wathethewela  (Bright  Horn), 
as  they  spoke  for  peace,  declaring  that  the  British 
would  fight  for  a  time  and  then  go  away,  but  that 
the  Long  Knives  from  the  south  would  stay  for- 
ever. Hour  after  hour  the  wheeling  stars,  a  silver 
dust  behind  the  chariot  of  the  moon,  rose,  passed, 
and  sank.  Hour  after  hour  the  mounting  mists 
of  the  Black  Swamp  wavered  and  fell  back,  driven 
away  by  the  heat  of  the  fires  and  the  hot  breaths 
of  the  warriors.  Dawn  was  breaking  in  the  east 
as  Tecumseh  and  his  devoted  few  struck  their 
hatchets  into  the  war  post  and  left  the  council  to 
prepare  for  their  northward  venture,  leaving  the 
bulk  of  the  Shawnees  loyal  to  the  Seventeen  Fires. 

71 


72  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

Long  before  this,  Alagwa  had  sought  Wabetha, 
wife  of  Tecumseh,  and  had  told  her  the  will  of  the 
great  chief.  In  the  privacy  of  the  lodge  she  had 
dropped  her  Indian  garments  from  her  one  by  one, 
till  she  stood  revealed  in  the  firelight,  a  slender 
shape  amazingly  fair  compared  to  the  red  tints  of 
the  Indians.  Wabetha,  softly  marvelling  over  the 
ever-new  wonder  of  her  white  beauty,  had  hacked 
at  the  two  heavy  plaits  of  burnished  hair  till  they 
fell  like  two  great  snakes  to  the  trampled  clay  of 
the  floor,  leaving  the  girl  bare  indeed.  Then,  one 
by  one,  she  had  clothed  her  in  the  unfamiliar  gar- 
ments of  the  whites,  the  strong  calico  shirt,  the 
deerskin  knee  breeches,  the  leggings  wrapped  about 
each  slender  limb  and  bound  at  the  top  and  at  the 
bottom  with  pliant  thongs,  the  high  moccasins  pad- 
ded as  a  protection  against  the  snakes  that  infested 
the  whole  region.  When  the  squaw  placed  on  her 
head  the  inevitable  coonskin  cap  of  the  white  hunter, 
it  would  have  taken  a  sharp  eye  to  suspect  the  sex 
of  this  Indian-trained  daughter  of  the  Huguenots. 
Straight  as  a  fir  and  supple  as  a  willow,  retaining 
longer  than  most  of  her  sex  the  slender  lines  of 
childhood,  she  hid  all  feminine  curves  beneath  the 
loose  garb  of  the  woodsman. 

When,  with  the  first  peep  of  dawn  Wilwiloway 
came  slipping  through  the  rolling  mists  to  scratch 
at  the  cabin  door,  she  was  ready,  her  good-bys 
said.  Without  a  word  she  fell  in  at  his  heels  and 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  73 

together  they  took  the  long  trail  south,  the  trail 
whose  only  end,  so  far  as  known  to  her,  would  be 
beneath  alien  stars  at  the  borders  of  a  sea  unknown. 

Wilwiloway  moved  cautiously.  No  sign  of  danger 
was  visible,  but  he  was  too  well  versed  in  the  war 
trail  not  to  know  that  the  unseen  danger  is  ever  the 
deadliest.  Alagwa  followed,  also  cautiously,  not 
because  she  feared,  for  she  did  not,  but  because  she 
had  been  trained  to  obey  the  will  of  the  leaders. 
Close  at  Wilwiloway's  heels  she  trod,  putting  her 
feet  carefully  into  his  footprints.  Only  once  she 
paused,  at  the  edge  of  the  clearing,  and  looked  back- 
ward at  the  vast  wavering  draperies  of  mist  that 
hid  the  only  home  she  could  remember.  Her  eyes 
were  dim  and  her  cheeks  wet,  not  merely  from  the 
clinging  fingers  of  the  fog,  as  she  strove  to  pene- 
trate the  blanket  of  mist  that  hung  before  her. 
For  a  moment  she  gazed,  then,  with  a  choking 
sob,  she  hurried  on.  * 

Hour  after  hour  the  two  sped  southward.  Neither 
spoke.  Wilwiloway,  at  his  great  leader's  command, 
was  giving  up  the  hope  of  his  life,  and  was  giving 
it  up  silently  and  stolidly,  with  Indian  stoicism. 
Alagwa  was  giving  up  all  she  had  known,  all  her 
friends,  all  the  familiar  scenes  of  her  childhoofl. 

And  yet,  after  the  first  pang,  her  thoughts  went 
forward,  not  backward,  ranging  into  the  strange 
new  world  into  which  she  was  hurrying.  Alagwa 
was  skilled  in  all  forms  of  woodcraft ;  she  could  make 


74  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

fire  where  a  white  man  would  freeze;  catch  game 
where  he  would  starve;  sleep  warm  and  snug  where 
he  would  shiver  and  rack  with  wet  and  fever  and 
ague.  She  knew  the  forest  trails,  knew  the  rocks 
on  which  the  rattlesnake  sunned  and  the  tufts  of 
grass  beneath  which  the  copperhead  lurked,  knew 
the  verdure  that  hid  the  quagmire,  the  firm-appear- 
ing ice  that  splintered  at  a  touch,  the  tottering  tree 
that  dealt  ruin  at  a  breath. 

But  of  the  white  man's  ways  she  knew  almost 
nothing.  Before  her  father  died  he  had  taught  her 
to  speak  French,  but  in  the  years  that  had  passed 
since  then  she  had  nearly  forgotten  it.  From  one 
source  or  another,  from  Colonel  Johnson  and  his 
family,  from  two  or  three  prisoners,  she  had  learned 
English — enough  to  understand  if  not  enough  to 
speak  fluently.  But  other  than  this  she  knew  noth- 
ing— except  that  there  was  a  world  of  things  to  be 
known. 

Much  she  wondered  concerning  the  strange  new 
life  into  which  she  was  hurrying.  Her  woman's 
heart  quaked  at  the  dangers  she  must  face,  but  her 
woman's  soul,  burning  high  with  zeal  to  serve  her 
people,  bore  her  on.  If  for  a  moment  the  thought 
that  she  was  to  play  a  treacherous  part,  to  worm 
her  way  into  the  Americans'  confidence  in  order  to 
betray  them,  came  to  vex  her  she  drove  it  back. 
For  years  the  Long  Knives  had  cheated  her  people, 
had  lied  to  them,  had  despoiled  them,  had  slain 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  75 

them.  Treaty  after  treaty  they  had  made,  deter- 
mining boundaries  which  they  swore  not  to  cross; 
and  then,  the  moment  they  grew  strong  enough  to 
take  another  forward  step,  they  had  broken  their 
pledges  and  had  surged  forward,  driving  her  people 
back.  Treachery  for  treachery.  Against  such 
shameless  foes  all  things  were  fair.  If  she  could 
requite  them  some  small  proportion  of  the  woe  they 
had  dealt  out  to  her  and  hers  she  would  glory  in 
the  deed.  Afterwards,  if  they  detected  her  they 
might  slay  her  as  they  pleased — burn  her  at  the 
stake  if  they  would.  She  would  show  them  how  a 
Shawnee  could  die. 

Concerning  the  man  in  the  red  coat  she  thought 
very  little.  She  might  have  to  think  of  him  again 
at  some  time  in  the  future,  but  'for  the  moment  he 
was  one  of  the  things  she  was  leaving  behind.  He 
was  an  Englishman  and  therefore  her  ally,  but  he 
was  her  father's  foe  and  therefore  hers.  After  she 
had  done  her  duty,  after  these  shameless  Americans 
had  been  driven  back,  after  the  hatchet  had  been 
buried  in  victory  for  her  tribe,  she  would  consider 
what  he  had  offered.  For  the  moment  she  merely 
wondered  idly  whether  he  had  come  to  America 
really  desirous  of  putting  her  in  her  place  across 
the  water  or  whether  he  had  come  in  order  to  kill 
her  and  take  her  estates.  Either  alternative  seemed 
entirely  possible  to  Alagwa's  Indian-trained  mind. 
He  was  of  her  clan  and  therefore  bound  to  aid  her 


76  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

loyally.  But  he  was  her  father's  foe  and  therefore 
was  free  to  kill  her  and  take  her  property.  She 
would  be  slow  to  trust  him.  Fortunately  she  did 
not  have  to  trust  him  now.  It  never  once  crossed 
the  girl's  mind  that  Captain  Count  Brito  might  wish 
to  wed  her  rather  than  kill  her  or  that  by  so  doing 
he  could  easily  get  possession  of  her  property. 
Among  the  Indians  the  lover  gave  presents  to  the 
father  of  his  bride;  he  did  not  receive  them  with 
her. 

But,  concerning  the  young  chief  from  the  south 
of  whom  Tecumseh  had  spoken,  she  did  think  long 
and  dubiously.  Would  she  meet  him  among  the 
whites  to  whom  she  was  going  and  would  she  know 
him  if  she  did  meet  him  Had  he  come  to  Ohio 
at  all,  or  had  his  heart  failed  him  as  he  faced  the 
long  trail  to  the  north  Had  he,  like  all  other 
Americans,  spoken  with  a  forked  tongue  when  he 
promised  to  come?  Had  he  scorned  his  Indian- 
bred  cousin,  as  she  knew  his  people  scorned  the 
Indians? 

And  what  was  he  like?  Tecumseh  had  said  that  he 
was  young,  big,  strong,  and  fair-haired.  Methoa- 
taske,  mother  of  Tecumseh,  had  spoken — Alagwa  re- 
membered it  dimly — of  a  youth  whom  she  had 
adopted  into  the  Panther  clan  far  away  to  the  south 
at  the  edge  o'f  the  Big  Sea  Water — a  youth  with 
blue  eyes  and  yellow  hair.  Alagwa  formed  a  picture 
in  her  mind. 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  77 

Then  she  caught  herself  up  angrily.  After  all, 
what  did  it  matter.  She  was  not  going  to  meet  this 
youth.  Rather  she  would  avoid  him.  His  people 
were  at  war  with  hers.  He  was  her  enemy.  She 
would  think  of  him  no  more. 

Abruptly  Wilwiloway  halted,  stiffening  like  a 
hunting  dog.  Behind  him  Alagwa  stopped  in  her 
tracks,  poising  as  motionless  as  some  wild  thing  of 
the  forest,  listening  to  a  rattling  and  clinking  that 
came  from  the  narrow,  vistaless  road  that  stretched 
before  her. 

In  a  moment  Wilwiloway  turned  his  head. 
"  White  men  come  in  wagon,"  he  said.  "  Squaw 
stop  here.  Wilwiloway  go  see."  He  slipped  into 
the  bushes  and  was  gone. 

Alagwa,  with  the  obedience  ingrained  into  her 
since  childhood,  waited  where  she  stood,  peering 
through  the  green  foliage  that  laced  across  her 
eyes. 

Soon  a  wagon  drawn  by  two  mules  clattered  into 
the  field  of  her  vision.  On  the  box  sat  a  white  man, 
driving,  with  a  rifle  across  his  knees.  Beside  the 
wagon  walked  another  white  man,  with  a  rifle  in  the 
hollow  of  his  arm.  A  little  behind  rode  two  other 
men;  one,  marvel  of  marvels,  was  neither  red  nor 
white,  but  black;  the  other — Alagwa  caught  her 
breath — was  young  and  big  and  fair-haired. 

Abruptly  she  saw  Wilwiloway  step  into  the  road 
and  throw  up  his  hand.  "  Peace,"  he  called.  The 


78  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

young  man  on  horseback  behind  threw  up  his  right 
palm  in  answer.  "  Peace,'*  he  answered,  in  the 
Shawnee  tongue,  smilingly. 

But  as  he  spoke  Alagwa  saw  the  white  man  on  the 
box  throw  up  his  rifle  with  a  meaning  not  to  be  mis- 
taken. His  action  swept  away  her  Indian  training 
in  a  breath  and  she  sprang  forward  with  a  shriek 
of  warning. 

Too  late  !  The  rifle  spoke  and  Wilwiloway  reeled 
backward,  clutching  at  the  air.  Against  a  tree 
trunk  he  fell  and  held  himself  up,  a  dark  stain 
widening  swiftly  upon  the  white  of  his  shirt. 

Alagwa  saw  red.  Wilwiloway  was  her  friend;  all 
her  life  she  had  known  him;  he  had  loved  her;  he 
was  being  foully  murdered.  With  a  scream  she 
snatched  her  hunting  knife  from  her  belt  and  dashed 
to  his  aid. 

The  man  in  the  road  saw  her  coming  and  fired. 
Alagwa  knew  that  he  had  fired  at  her,  but  she  did 
not  mind.  What  she  did  mind  was  that  she  had 
stumbled  on  something,  stumbled  so  violently  that 
the  shock  sent  her  staggering  backward.  As  she 
reeled,  she  saw  the  young  man  on  the  horse  spur- 
ring forward. 

Wilwiloway  was  still  clinging  to  the  tree.  He 
saw  the  girl  totter  and  the  sight  seemed  to  give 
him  strength.  With  a  yell  of  fury  he  leaped  upon 
the  man  in  the  road,  tore  from  his  hands  the  yet 
smoking  rifle,  and  struck  with  it  once — a  mighty 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  79 

blow  that  sent  the  man  crashing  to  the  ground,  a 
crimson  furrow  across  his  shattered  skull. 

Wilwiloway  did  not  pause.  Over  the  dead  form 
of  his  enemy  he  sprang,  leaping  upward  at  the 
man  on  the  box,  to  meet  a  crashing  blow  that  hurled 
him  backward  and  downward  into  the  dust  of  the 
road. 

With  a  whoop  the  man  on  the  box  sprang  to  the 
ground,  knife  in  hand.  An  instant  later  he  was  up, 
waving  a  bloody  trophy.  He  saw  the  girl  still 
clutching  at  the  air  and  rushed  toward  her. 

Alagwa  saw  it  all.  Wilwiloway  was  dead,  and 
she  was  at  the  mercy  of  her  enemies.  She  could  not 
even  move;  her  legs  had  grown  strangely  heavy. 
But  her  spirit  rose  indomitably.  Forgotten  was  her 
white  ancestry ;  once  more  she  was  an  Indian,  trained 
in  Indian  ideals.  Steadily  she  drew  herself  up, 
folded  her  arms  across  her  breast,  and  stared  un- 
flinchingly at  the  coming  death.  She  would  show 
them  how  a  Shawnee  could  die.  Deliberately  she 
began  to  sing  the  Shawnee  death  chant: 

Behold,  the  water  covers  now  our  feet: 

Rivers  must  we  cross ;  deep  waters  must  we  pass. 

Oh  Kawas,  hear :   To  thee  we  call.    Oh  come  and  aid  us. 

Help  us  through  the  stream  to  pass  and  forward  go. 

Here  is  the  place  we  seek;  here  is  our  journey's  end. 
Here  have  we  come;  here  is  our  journey's  end. 


80  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

Her  sight  was  failing,  but  she  sang  on.  Dimly 
she  saw  the  white  man  with  the  hunting  knife  and 
behind  him  the  young  white  chief  on  his  horse  com- 
ing like  a  thunderbolt.  She  did  not  heed  them. 
Round  her  cool  green  waves  were  rising ;  the  forest 
was  stretching  out  its  arms  to  pillow  her. 

Then  came  a  shock.  The  young  white  chief  had 
driven  his  horse  against  the  man  on  the  ground, 
hurling  him  backward.  "  Stop !  you  d — d 
butcher,"  he  yelled.  "  Don't  you  see  it's  a  white 
boy ! "  He  leaped  from  his  horse  and  caught  the 
girl  as  she  fell. 

The  touch  roused  Alagwa  to  sudden  blind  terror 
and  she  began  to  struggle  furiously,  striking  with 
soft,  harmless  hands.  Then  abruptly  a  voice  sounded 
in  her  ear — a  voice  gentle  yet  strong,  whimsical  yet 
comforting. 

"It's  all  right,  youngster,"  it  said.  "It's  all 
right.  Nobody's  going  to  hurt  you.  We're  white 
men — friends !  friends  !  There  now,  boy,  be  still !  " 

The  girl's  eyes  lifted  to  the  face  that  hung  above 
her.  Feverishly  they  roved  over  the  broad  brow, 
the  fair  curling  hair,  the  whimsical  blue  eyes,  the 
smiling  yet  pitiful  mouth.  As  she  read  their  mes- 
sage terror  slipped  from  her,  her  strained  limbs  re- 
laxed, a  sense  of  peace  and  safety  came  over  her, 
and  she  drifted  away  on  a  sea  of  blessed  uncon- 
sciousness. 


ALAGWA,    BEING    WOUNDED,    IS    RESCUED    BY    JACK    TELFAIR 


CHAPTER  VII 

SLOWLY  the  girl  came  back  to  life.  Even  after 
she  regained  consciousness  she  lay  with  closed 
eyelids,  conscious  only  of  a  dull  pain  that 
throbbed  up  and  down  her  right  leg.  When  at  last 
she  opened  her  eyes  she  found  herself  lying  upon  her 
back,  staring  upward  at  a  canvas  top  that  arched 
above  her.  At  her  feet,  she  could  see  a  mass  of 
tree  trunks  and  interlaced  branches,  beyond  which 
gleamed  a  speck  of  blue  sky.  Weakly  she  turned 
her  head  to  right  and  to  left,  and  saw  that  she  was 
lying  on  a  rough  bed  in  a  wagon  that  was  piled 
high  with  boxes  and  bales.  Wonderingly  she  stared, 
not  understanding. 

Suddenly  memory  returned.  The  canvas  top  dis- 
solved before  her  eyes.  Once  more  she  saw  the 
plodding  mules,  the  white  men  on  box  and  ground, 
the  smoking  rifles,  the  brief  combat,  the  fall  of 
Wilwiloway.  A  spasm  of  fury  swept  over  her, 
shaking  her  with  its  intensity.  Her  teeth  ground 
together ;  her  fingers  clinched  until  the  nails  bit  into 
the  soft  palms. 

Wilwiloway  was  dead !  Wilwiloway,  the  kind,  the 
brave,  the  generous,  was  dead,  foully  and  treach- 
erously murdered  by  the  white  men  who  had  de- 
spoiled her  people  and  had  driven  them  step  by  step 
6  81 


82  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

backward  from  the  Ohio  to  the  great  lake.  For 
years  she  had  been  taught  to  hate  the  whites,  to 
believe  them  robbers  and  murderers.  And  now  she 
had  the  proof! 

Oh !  How  she  hated  them !  How  she  hated  them ! 
If  the  chance  ever  came  she  would  take  a  revenge 
that  would  make  the  blood  run  cold. 

If  the  chance  ever  came!  The  thought  brought 
her  back  to  her  surroundings.  What  was  she  doing 
in  this  wagon  ?  Who  had  put  her  there  ?  What  were 
they  going  to  do  with  her?  Cautiously  she  raised 
her  head.  No  one  seemed  to  be  near.  Perhaps  she 
could  escape ! 

With  an  effort  she  tried  to  raise  herself,  but  the 
motion  sent  the  blood  rushing  to  her  brain  and 
woke  the  dull  pain  in  her  leg  to  a  sudden  swift 
agony  that  made  her  drop  back,  half  fainting.  Set- 
ting her  teeth  against  the  pain  she  put  down  her 
hand  and  found  that  the  legging  had  been  removed 
from  her  right  leg  and  that  the  limb  itself  had  been 
bandaged  half  way  below  the  knee.  She  felt  for  her 
hunting  knife  and  found  it  gone!  Despair  rushed 
over  her  and  she  threw  her  hands  to  her  face,  trying 
to  choke  back  the  dry  sobs  that  shook  her. 

As  she  lay,  overwhelmed,  a  dry  branch  cracked 
outside  the  wagon  and  a  blustering  voice  broke  the 
silence.  Alagwa  did  not  understand  half  the  words, 
but  she  caught  the  purport. 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  83 

"  Here !  What  the  h — 1  are  you  trying  to  do," 
demanded  the  voice.  "  Gimme  back  that  rifle." 

For  a  moment  silence  reigned.  Then  another  voice 
— a  voice  cool  and  deliberate — made  answer. 
Alagwa  had  heard  that  voice  only  once,  but  she 
knew  it  instantly  for  that  of  the  young  white  chief 
who  had  comforted  her  just  before  she  sank  into 
unconsciousness. 

"  No !  "  he  said.  "  I  won't  give  it  back  to  you. 
You  are  under  arrest.  You  have  committed  a 
brutal  murder  which  may  rouse  all  the  friendly 
Indians  against  us  and  may  cost  the  lives  of  hun- 
dreds of  white  men,  women,  and  children.  If  your 
errand  were  not  so  urgent  I'd  take  you  back  to 
Piqua  and  turn  you  over  to  Colonel  Johnson.  But 
the  men  at  Fort  Wayne  need  your  ammunition.  So 
I'm  going  to  take  you  to  Girty's  Town  and  if  I 
don't  find  Colonel  Johnson  there  I'll  leave  word  for 
him  and  take  you  on  to  Fort  Wayne  and  turn  you 
over  to  the  authorities  there  to  be  dealt  with  ac- 
cording to  law." 

The  man  laughed  scornfully.  "  You  think  you're 
right  much  of  a  much,  don't  you?  "  he  sneered. 
"  Take  me  to  Fort  Wayne,  will  you  ?  All  right ! 
That's  where  I'm  bound  for.  But  if  you  reckon 
anybody  there's  going  to  do  anything  about  my 
shootin'  an  Injun,  you're  all-fired  wrong.  Do  any- 
thing? Lord!  Yes!  They'll  do  somethin'.  They'll 
give  me  a  prize." 


84 


"All  right!  They'll  do  as  they  please.  I'm 
going  to  do  my  part.  Now,  hand  over  that  knife 
in  your  belt." 

The  man  laughed  scornfully.  "  I'll  see  you 
d — d  first,"  he  gritted. 

"  Oh !  no !  You  won't.  Pass  it  over.  Quick, 
now."  The  voice  was  chill  and  definitive.  Then 
came  a  pause.  Alagwa  could  imagine  the  two  men 
facing  each  other  in  the  brief  mental  struggle  that 
would  break  the  nerve  of  one  of  them  forever.  At 
last  came  the  other  man's  voice,  still  surly  but 
with  all  the  backbone  gone  out  of  it.  "  Take  it, 
d — n  you,"  he  growled. 

"  Very  well !  Now  listen.  We've  got  to  go 
through  Girty's  Town,  where  we'll  probably  meet 
the  friends  of  the  Shawnee  you  murdered.  If  I 
told  them  the  truth  you'd  never  get  through  alive. 
So  I'm  going  to  lie  for  you.  I'm  going  to  throw 
all  the  blame  on  your  dead  friend.  Understand  ?  " 

The  man  muttered  something  that  Alagwa  could 
not  hear. 

But  the  answer  came  quick.  "  That'll  do ! " 
ordered  the  chill  young  voice.  "  You're  a  prisoner. 
You  don't  give  advice,  you  obey  orders.  You'll  do 
as  I  say  till  we  get  to  Fort  Wayne  and  you'll  do  it 
quick.  Moreover,  I  don't  propose  to  carry  you  as 
a  passenger.  You'll  do  your  work  right  along. 
Now  climb  on  that  box  and  start." 

The  man  snarled,    but  climbed    upon    the    box. 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  85 

Alagwa  felt  the  wagon  sway  to  his  weight.  She  felt 
that  he  was  looking  at  her  through  the  narrow  half- 
circle  in  the  canvas-closed  front,  and  she  closed  her 
eyes.  The  next  instant  she  heard  his  voice: 

"  What  you  going  to  do  with  this  d —  half- 
breed?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Half-breed !  That  boy's  as  white  as  you — and 
whiter.  You  keep  away  from  him  or  you'll  reckon 
with  me.  Understand?  " 

"  Well !  I  ain't  hurtin'  him  none,  am  I?  "  The 
man  gathered  up  the  reins.  "  You  don't  need  be 
so  durned  cantankerous.  I  just  asked  what  you 
was  going  to  do  with  him." 

"  I'm  going  to  take  him  to  Girty's  Town  and 
see  if  I  can  find  his  friends.  If  I  can't  find  them 
I'll  take  him  on  to  Fort  Wayne." 

"  Humph !  "  The  man  lashed  the  unoffending 
mules  with  his  whip.  "  Git  up  there !  "  he  ordered. 
Then  he  spoke  over  his  shoulder.  "  All  right,"  he 
said.  "  You'll  do  as  you  want,  I  reckon.  If  I  had 
the  say  I'd  kick  him  out  durned  quick.  An'  I'm 
tellin'  you  you'll  be  blamed  sorry  before  you  git  shut 
of  him.  Breed  or  no  breed,  he's  been  brought  up 
among  the  Injuns  or  I  ain't  no  judge,  an'  he'll  never 
be  no  good.  Them  Injun-bred  boys  never  are. 
He'll  turn  on  you  like  a  snake  in  the  grass.  You 
hear  me." 

With  a  jerk  and  a  jolt  the  wagon  rolled  off.  The 
motion  sent  little  thrills  of  pain  through  the  girl's 


86  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

bullet-pierced  leg,  but  the  turmoil  in  her  mind  pre- 
vented her  heeding  them.  Desperately  she  tried  to 
control  her  thoughts.  First,  her  disguise  had 
held  good.  The  white  men  thought  she  was  a  boy. 
Well  and  good;  that  was  what  she  wanted  them  to 
think. 

If  they  had  not  found  her  out  when  she  was  un- 
conscious and  at  their  mercy,  they  would  probably 
not  do  so  soon.  Her  entry  among  them  had  not  been 
auspicious,  but  at  least  it  had  been  made — and  made 
in  a  way  that  banished  the  last  shred  of  hesitation 
from  her  heart.  They  were  all  robbers  and  mur- 
derers ;  gladly  would  she  slay  them  all. 

But  how  was  she  to  do  it?  Tecumseh  had  told 
her  that  runners  would  come  to  her  from  time 
to  time  to  get  any  information  she  might  have.  But 
who  were  these  runners ;  Tecumseh  had  not  told  her ; 
Wilwiloway  had  not  told  her.  Perhaps  the  latter 
had  meant  to  do  so,  but  had  waited  until  it  was  too 
late.  Perhaps,  after  all,  it  was  not  necessary  that 
she  should  know  them;  they  would  know  her  and 
would  come  to  her. 

But  could  they  find  her?  Surely  Tecumseh  had 
contemplated  no  such  occurrence  as  that  which 
had  taken  place.  Her  trail  would  be  broken;  the 
runners  might  not  find  her ;  her  mission  would  be  a 
failure.  She  must  watch  and  wait  and  snatch  at 
any  chance  to  send  tidings. 

But  what  were  the  white  men  going  to  do  with 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  87 

her?  Evidently  they  were  divided  in  opinion.  One 
of  them — the  man  on  the  box,  the  man  who  had 
murdered  Wilwiloway — would  have  slain  and 
scalped  her  if  he  had  not  been  prevented;  he  still 
hated  her  and  would  maltreat  her  if  he  dared.  The 
other,  the  young  white  chief  with  the  blue  eyes — 
Alagwa  wondered  whether  he  could  be  her  kinsman 
from  the  far  south — wished  her  well.  He  had  pro- 
tected her.  Passionate  gratitude  rose  in  the  girl's 
heart,  but  she  choked  it  back.  He  belonged  to  the 
hated  white  race ;  and  she— her  skin  might  be  white, 
but  her  heart  was  red,  red,  red ! 

A  thudding  of  hoofs  in  the  dust  came  from  behind 
the  wagon  and  a  horse  thrust  his  head  beneath  the 
arched  top.  Behind  it  appeared  the  face  of  the 
young  white  chief,  peering  into  the  shadowy  depths 
of  the  wagon.  From  behind  the  veil  of  her  long 
lashes  Alagwa  watched  him. 

A  moment  later  he  drew  back,  but  his  voice  came 
distinctly  to  the  girl's  ears.  "  He  hasn't  moved, 
Cato,"  he  said.  "  I  don't  wonder.  Poor  little  devil ! 
He  must  have  lost  half  the  blood  in  his  little  body. 
I  wonder  who  in  thunder  he  is?  He's  no  half-breed, 
I'll  warrant." 

"Ha'f-breed?  Ha'f-breed?  You  mean  ha'f- 
Injun,  Mars'  Jack?  No,  suh,  he  ain't  no  ha'f-breed, 
he  ain't.  He's  quality,  sure.  He's  got  de  littlest 
hands  and  feet  I  ever  see'd  on  a  man.  He  ain't  no 
half-strainer,  he  ain't."  Words,  accent,  and  intona- 


88 

tion  were  all  strange  to  the  girl ;  she  understood  only 
that  the  man  was  speaking  of  her  and  that  his 
tones  were  friendly. 

The  other's  answer  came  promptly.  "  Oh !  Yes ! 
He's  of  good  stock,  all  right,"  he  said.  "  But 
confound  it,  who  is  he?  And  where  in  thunder 
did  he  come  from?  Was  he  with  that  Indian  or  was 
he  trying  to  get  away  from  him?  And  what  in 
thunder  did  he  come  bounding  out  of  those  bushes 
for  just  in  time  to  stop  a  bullet?  I  wish  he'd  wake 
up  and  tell  us  about  himself." 

Cato's  voice  came  again.  "  He  sure  do  look 
mighty  white,  Mars'  Jack,"  he  commented.  "  You 
reckon  he  gwine  die  ?  " 

"  Die  nothing !  The  wound  isn't  anything.  But 
he's  lost  a  lot  of  blood  and  he's  got  to  be  looked 
after.  Confound  it!  It's  bad  enough  to  have  to 
take  charge  of  this  wagon  without  having  to  look 
out  for  a  fool  boy  into  the  bargain." 

A  fool  boy!     Indignation  swelled  in  the  girl's 

bosom.  A  fool  boy,  indeed.  What  right  had 
i ' 

But  the  voice  went  on  and  she  listened.  "  Con- 
found those  infernal  fools  that  had  to  go  shooting 
idown  an  Indian  just  because  he  was  an  Indian." 

Cato's  reply  came  slowly.  "  You  sure  dat  Injun 
gem'man  didn't  mean  no  harm,  Mars'  Jack?  "  he 
questioned,  doubtfully. 

"  Mean  any  harm !    Why,  he  had  made  the  peace 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  89 

sign  and  had  dropped  his  rifle.  It  was  sheer  murder 
to  shoot  him,  and  I'm  mighty  glad  he  took  his 
vengeance  before  he  died.  But  I'll  have  the  dickens 
and  all  of  a  time  explaining  to  the  chiefs  at  Girty's 
Town." 

"  Girty's  Town !    Whar  dat,  Mars'  Jack?  " 

"  That's  a  Shawnee  village  just  ahead  here. 
There's  no  way  around  it  and  we've  got  to  go 
through  it." 

"  You — you  gwine  drive  right  through  without 
stoppin',  Mars'  Jack,  ain't  you,  suh  ?  " 

"  No !  I'm  going  to  report  what  has  happened. 
I've  got  to  set  things  right.  The  Indians  about 
here  are  supposed  to  be  friendly  and  I've  got  to  do 
what  I  can  to  keep  them  so.  War  hasn't  begun  yet, 
and  anyway,  I'm  here  on  invitation  from  Tecumseh 
himself." 

Cato's  teeth  began  to  chatter.  "  You — you  ain't 
gwine  into  dat  Injun  village  and  tell  'em  about  what 
done  happen,  is  you,  Mars'  Jack  ?  "  he  faltered. 

"  Certainly  I  am.  I've  got  to  see  that  this  am- 
munition gets  through  safely  to  Fort  Wayne, 
haven't  I?  Our  men  will  need  it  soon.  I  don't  want 
to  go  there.  I  want  to  go  to  Wapakoneta  and  get 
Miss  Estelle.  But  I've  got  to  go.  So  the  best 
I  can  do  is  to  see  Colonel  Johnson,  or  send  him  word 
about  this  business  and  send  Tecumseh  word  that 
I'm  coming  back  as  quick  as  I  can  to  redeem  my 
promise." 


00  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

Alagwa  understood  not  more  than  half  of  what 
she  heard,  but  she  gathered  its  purport.  Jack's 
last  words  settled  his  identity  once  for  all.  Beyond 
a  doubt  he  was  the  young  white  chief  from  the 
south.  She  understood,  too,  that  he  had  had  no 
part  in  the  killing  of  Wilwiloway  and  that  he  was 
glad  that  the  murderer  had  been  punished.  A  soft 
comfort  stole  into  the  girl's  heart  as  she  realized 
that  she  would  have  no  blood  feud  against  him.  She 
had  only  to  call  to  him  and  to  show  him  the  trinkets 
that  Tecumseh  had  given  her,  and  all  would  be 
well.  Impulsively  she  opened  her  mouth  to  speak; 
then  closed  it  again.  What  was  she  doing?  Had 
she  forgotten  her  mission?  Had  she  forgotten  the 
slaying  of  Wilwiloway?  Was  his  murderer  to  go 
unpunished  ?  No !  A  thousand  times !  No ! 

Jack's  voice  broke  in  on  her  thoughts.  "  There's 
Girty's  Town  just  ahead,"  he  remarked.  "  See 
that  your  scalp  is  tight  on  your  head,  Cato." 

Girty's  Town !  The  words  struck  the  girl  like  a 
blow.  For  the  first  time  she  realized  that  the  wagon 
was  taking  her,  not  toward  Piqua,  not  toward  the 
camps  of  the  white  men  for  which  she  had  set  out, 
but  away  from  them,  back  toward  Girty's  Town 
and  the  St.  Marys  river.  Often  had  she  visited 
Girty's  Town  and  well  she  knew  all  the  two  score 
Shawnees  who  dwelt  within  it.  Her  revenge  was 
ready  to  her  hand ;  in  a  moment  she  would  be  in  the 
midst  of  the  warriors;  then  she  would  have  only 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  91 

to  rise  in  her  place  and  call  to  them  that  Wilwiloway 
had  been  murdered,  foully  and  treacherously,  and 
that  she  herself  had  been  shot  by  the  man  on  the  box, 
and  they  would  hurl  themselves  upon  him  and  drag 
him  down.  Her  blood  ran  hot  at  the  thought. 

Then  suddenly  it  cooled.  The  young  white  chief 
would  not  stand  tamely  by  while  his  prisoner  was 
killed.  He  would  fight !  He  would  fight  hard.  He 
would  kill  many  of  her  people.  But  he  would  be 
pulled  down  at  last  and — and — No !  Not  that !  Not 
that  I  Her  revenge  must  wait. 

Besides,  Tecumseh  had  not  sent  her  south  to 
fight  but  to  spy.  If  she  called  for  vengeance  on  the 
murderer  of  Wilwiloway  she  betrayed  herself  and 
wrecked  her  mission.  No !  she  must  wait.  There 
would  be  other  chances. 

But  her  friends  in  the  village  would  know  her! 
What  would  she  say  to  them?  Abruptly  she  re- 
membered the  saving  grace  of  her  costume.  All 
the  Indians  knew  her  as  a  girl  with  painted  cheeks, 
fillet-bound  forehead,  and  long  braids  of  hair.  Not 
one  had  seen  her  in  shirt  and  breeches  with  clean- 
washed  cheeks  and  short  hair  that  curled  upon  her 
forehead.  In  such  a  guise  perhaps  even  their  sharp 
eyes  might  fail  to  recognize  her. 

The  road  grew  smoother  and  she  realized  that  the 
wagon  was  within  the  village.  A  moment  later  it 
halted  and  the  pad  of  running  feet  and  the  mur- 
mur of  voices  arose  about  it.  Jack's  voice  arose, 


92  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

telling  of  what  had  happened  and  expressing  his 
regret,  but  presenting  the  facts  so  as  to  screen  the 
living  murderer  and  lay  the  blame  on  the  dead  man. 

A  small  hole  in  the  canvas  cover  of  the  wagon  was 
close  to  her  face.  She  glanced  toward  the  man 
on  the  box  and  saw  that  he  was  cowering  back, 
listening  with  strained  ears  to  Jack's  words  and 
paying  no  attention  to  her  movements.  Gingerly 
she  moved  till  her  eye  was  at  the  hole. 

"  I  know  not  the  name  of  the  dead  chief,"  Jack 
finished.  "  But  I  saw  upon  his  breast  a  token  like 
to  that  upon  my  own."  He  tore  open  his  shirt  and 
disclosed  a  mark,  at  sight  of  which  a  chorus  of 
gutteral  exclamations  arose.  "  Great  is  my  grief," 
he  went  on,  "  that  the  chief  is  slain.  He,  however, 
took  vengeance  before  he  died.  He  killed  the  man 
who  killed  him.  I  go  now  to  Fort  Wayne  in  the 
service  of  the  Great  White  Father.  In  three  days 
I  will  return  to  speak  more  fully  of  this  before  the 
white  chief,  Colonel  Johnson." 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence,  then  an  Indian — 
Alagwa  knew  him  as  Blue  Jacket,  friend  of  the 
whites — stepped  forward.  "  My  brother  speaks 
well,"  he  said.  "  Far  be  it  from  me  to  doubt  my 
brother's  word.  But  some  of  my  tribe  have  dug  up 
the  hatchet.  If  my  brother  goes  now,  perhaps  the 
white  men  will  say  that  the  rest  of  us  are  snakes 
in  the  grass  and  that  we  lay  in  wait  for  the  white 
man  and  slew  him.  Perchance  they  may  descend 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  93 

upon  our  village  in  wrath  and  may  drive  our  young 
men  to  take  the  war-path.  Will  not  my  brother 
stay  and  speak  with  a  straight  tongue  to  our  father, 
Colonel  Johnson?  " 

Jack  shook  his  head.  "  I  can  not  stay,"  he  an- 
swered. "  I  must  hurry  to  Fort  Wayne.  The 
Seventeen  Fires  command  it.  But  I  will  leave  a 
letter  for  Colonel  Johnson.  I  will  tell  him  that 
your  hearts  are  good.  If  you  will  take  it  to  him  all 
will  be  well." 

The  chief  grunted  with  approval.  "  My  brother 
speaks  well,"  he  said.  "  We  will  send  the  letter  to 
Colonel  Johnson,  who  is  even  now  at  Wapakoneta. 
Some  of  my  young  men  shall  bring  in  the  bodies  for 
him  to  see." 

Jack  took  a  notebook  from  his  pocket  and  wrote 
an  account  of  the  tragedy  of  the  morning  on  two 
of  its  pages.  These  he  tore  out  and  handed  to  Blue 
Jacket.  "  This  will  make  all  safe !  "  he  said. 

The  chief  took  it  with  grave  thanks.  "  All  shall 
be  as  my  brother  says,"  he  promised. 

Jack  nodded.  "  It  is  well,"  he  said.  "  Now 
one  other  thing  I  would  ask.  I  come  hither  at  the 
request  of  Tecumseh,  to  take  council  with  him  con- 
cerning a  great  matter.  Will  you  bear  him  word 
that  I  am  called  away  on  duty  but  will  return  in 
five  days." 

The  chief  shook  his  head.    "  I  can  not.    Tecumseh 


94  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

has  gone  north  with  many  braves.  Already  he  is 
far  away ! " 

"  Humph !  "  Jack's  face  fell.  He  had  counted  on 
finding  Tecumseh  and  receiving  the  girl  from  his 
hands.  Just  what  to  do  he  did  not  know.  If 
Tecumseh  had  gone  north  to  join  the  British,  war 
must  be  even  nearer  at  hand  than  he  had  supposed. 
Perhaps  it  had  already  begun.  Whether  it  had  or 
not  his  first  duty  was  to  the  country ;  he  must  make 
sure  that  the  ammunition  reached  Fort  Wayne 
safely ;  all  private  affairs  must  wait  on  that !  Yet 
his  anxiety  as  to  the  girl  was  growing  fast. 

"  Let  my  brother  listen,"  he  said.  "  A  month 
ago  a  runner  from  Tecumseh  came  to  me  where  I 
dwelt  far  away  on  the  big  sea  water  to  the  south. 
He  sent  me  this  belt  " — Jack  held  out  the  belt 
— "  and  he  called  upon  me  as  a  member  of  the 
Panther  clan,  raised  up  by  his  mother,  Methoataske, 
to  come  to  Wapakoneta  and  receive  there  at  his 
hands  a  white  maiden,  Alagwa  by  name,  a  kins- 
woman of  my  own,  who  had  dwelt  in  his  lodge  since 
the  death  of  her  father,  the  chief  Delaroche.  Knows 
my  brother  of  this  maiden  ?  " 

Blue  Jacket  bowed.    "  I  know  her,"  he  said. 

Jack  resumed.  "  For  her  I  come,"  he  said. 
"  But  I  find  Tecumseh  gone.  Know  you  where  he 
has  placed  the  maiden?  " 

Blue  Jacket  did  not  answer  at  once.  Apparently 
he  was  turning  the  matter  over  in  his  mind.  Through 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  95 

the  hole  in  the  canvas  Alagwa  watched  him  nar- 
rowly, hanging  on  his  words  quite  as  anxiously  as 
did  Jack.  At  last  he  beckoned  a  boy  to  his  side  and 
gave  him  instructions  in  a  low  voice.  Then  he 
turned  to  Jack. 

"  The  maiden  was  at  Wapakoneta  in  Tecumseh's 
lodge  yesterday,"  he  said.  "  I  would  say  that  she 
was  there  still  but  that  another  white  chief — a  chief 
from  the  north  wearing  a  red  coat — came  to  me  an 
hour  ago  from  Wapakoneta  asking  tidings  of 
her." 

"  A  white  chief?  In  a  red  coat?  "  Jack  gasped. 
The  redcoat  officer  could  be  only  Brito,  but  that  he 
should  dare  to  come  down  from  Canada  in  the  exist- 
ing state  of  international  affairs  took  Jack's  breath 
away.  "  Did  he  find  her  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Where 
is  he?" 

"  He  has  not  found  her.  He  is  still  here.  I  have 
sent  for  him."  Blue  Jacket  pointed.  "  He  comes !  " 
he  finished. 

Advancing  through  the  Indian  village  came  a  big 
man  in  the  uniform  of  a  British  officer.  Alagwa 
recognized  him  instantly  as  he  who  had  claimed 
kinship  with  her  only  the  day  before.  Easily  and 
gracefully  he  strode  along  the  path  toward  the 
wagon.  As  he  drew  near  his  eyes  singled  out  Jack. 

"  Ah !  "  he  said,  halting.  "  You  have  news  of  the 
girl,  fellow  ?  Let  me  have  it  at  once ! " 

Jack  flushed  hotly.     He  was  young — not  half  the 


96  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

age  of  the  man  who  was  addressing  him — and  he 
lacked  the  easy  assurance  that  the  other  had  gained 
by  years  of  experience  in  the  great  world.  Bitterly 
he  resented  Captain  Brito's  tones,  but  he  tried  to 
keep  himself  in  check.  He  must  uphold  the  blood 
of  the  American  Telfairs  but  he  must  not  play  the 
boor  before  this  fashionable  cousin  of  his. 

"  Your  pardon,  sir !  "  he  said,  deliberately,  "  but 
to  whom  have  I  the  honor  of  speaking."  In  his 
voice  was  an  uncontrollable  catch,  born  of  excite- 
ment. 

Captain  Brito  stared.  "  Well !  I'm  d— d,"  he 
exclaimed,  laughing  shortly.  "  If  the  fellow  doesn't 
take  himself  seriously!  Come!  My  good  man;  I 
haven't  time  for  nonsense.  Where  is  the  girl?  " 

Jack  met  his  eyes  squarely.  His  agitation  was 
dying  away  and  his  nerves  were  momently  steady- 
ing. "  First,  you  will  please  to  answer  my  ques- 
tion," he  said.  "  Who  are  you?  " 

A  snarl  curled  Captain  Brito's  lips,  and  his  breath 
quickened  a  little.  "  Damnation !  "  he  began.  Then 
he  caught  himself  up.  Jack's  eyes  were  chill,  and 
the  captain  apparently  decided  that  compliance 
would  quickest  gain  his  ends. 

"  I  am  Captain  Count  Telfair,"  he  said,  "  of  His 
Majesty's  Forty-First  Foot.  Now,  sir,  your 
news ! "  He  drew  out  a  purse.  "  You  will  be  well 
paid  for  it,"  he  finished  contemptuously. 

Jack  paid  no  attention  to  the  last  words.     His 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  97 

flush  had  faded  and  his  cheeks  were  very  white. 
"  I  am  Jaqueline  Telfair,  of  Alabama,"  he  said,  de- 
liberately ;  "  and  I  demand  to  know  the  errand  that 
brings  a  British  officer  into  American  territory  at 
this  time." 

Captain  Brito's  eyes  widened  with  astonishment. 
"Well!  I'm  cursed,"  he  gasped.  Then,  with  a 
sudden  change  of  tone,  he  went  on :  "  Can  it  be 
possible  that  I  have  chanced  upon  my  American 
cousin  ?  Yes !  Yes !  Now  that  you  tell  me,  I  do 
see  the  family  features.  We  have  ever  run  close  to 
type,  we  Telfairs ;  even  in  America  " — Captain 
Brito  grunted — "  you  have  kept  the  likeness.  I'm 
glad  to  meet  you,  cousin !  "  He  held  out  his  hand. 

Jack  took  it.  But  his  face  did  not  lighten.  "  And 
I  you,"  he  said  courteously,  but  not  enthusiastically. 
"  As  a  kinsman  I  am  glad  to  welcome  you  to 
America.  But  as  an  American  I  am  obliged  to  re- 
peat my  question.  WTiat  are  you,  a  British  officer, 
doing  here  in  Ohio  ?  " 

Captain  Brito  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Egad !  " 
he  said.  "  You  are  " — he  paused ;  a  startled  ex- 
pression came  upon  his  face.  "  Has  war  been  de- 
clared ?  "  he  demanded,  eagerly. 

"  Not  that  I  know  of !  "  Jack  spoke  coldly.  "  If 
it.  had  been,  I  should  be  compelled  to  arrest  you  out 
of  hand,  cousin  or  no  cousin."  Captain  Brito 
laughed  shortly,  but  Jack  did  not  pause.  "  But  it 
is  well  known  that  British  emissaries  are  in  this 
7 


98  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

country  trying  to  stir  up  the  Indians  to  war  against 
the  whites.  If  you  are  one  of  those  devils " 

"  You  would  feel  it  your  duty  to  arrest  me. 
Egad!  Mr.  Jaqueline  Telfair,  paragon  of  all  the 
virtues,  I  almost  wish  I  were  one  of  those  patriotic 
and  self-sacrificing  servants  of  His  Majesty,  so  as 
to  put  your  fine  ideas  of  duty  to  the  test.  Un- 
fortunately, I  can  claim  no  such  honor.  I  am  here 
on  a  private  matter — By  God !  "  Captain  Brito 
broke  off,  staring. 

"Well,  sir!" 

"  Of  course ! "  Captain  Brito  began  to  laugh 
softly.  "  Of  course !  I  was  a  fool  not  to  guess 
sooner.  You  are  after  the  girl,  the  heiress  !  Well ! 
Well !  To  think  of  it !  You  virtuous  Americans 
seem  to  be  as  keen  after  the  dollar  as  we  "devils 
of  Englishmen ! " 

Jack  did  not  even  flush.  He  attempted  no  denial. 
"  Her  father,  Delaroche  Telfair,  hated  you  and 
your  house,"  he  said,  coldly.  "  He  foresaw  that 
his  daughter  might  inherit  the  French  estates.  At 
any  rate  he  swore  that  his  daughter  should  never 
fall  into  your  hands,  and  he  warned  Tecumseh 
against  you.  Perhaps  he  was  wrong,  but  that  is 
what  he  did,  and  both  Tecumseh  and  I  respect  his 
wishes.  At  all  events  the  girl  shall  not  be  driven 
or  humbugged  into  marriage  with  you  if  I  can  pre- 
vent it.  She  shall  have  free  choice  after  she  knows 
who  she  is  and  what  she  possesses." 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  99 

Jack's  voice  was  steady  and  his  eyes  did  not 
flinch.  Uncompromisingly  he  faced  the  elder  man, 
and  the  latter  stared  back  as  determinedly  and  far 
more  fiercely. 

Physically  the  two  men  looked  not  unequal. 
Their  weight  was  practically  the  same.  Captain 
Brito  was  heavier,  but  at  least  part  of  his  weight 
was  fat,  and  his  movements  were  slower  and  less 
springy  than  Jack's.  How  the  two  compared  in 
strength  and  in  endurance  only  actual  test  could 
tell. 

For  a  moment  Brito  said  nothing.  Then,  sud- 
denly he  reached  out  his  hand  and  clutched  Jack  by 
the  shoulder,  changing  as  he  did  so  from  the  languid, 
supercilious  gentleman  to  a  devil  with  snarling  lips. 
"  Hark  you  !  Young  man,"  he  grated.  "  Estelle 
Telfair  is  to  be  my  wife.  Understand  that  once 
for  all!  If  you  think  to  prevent  it  or  to  win  her 
for  yourself,  abandon  your  plans  and  go  back  to 
your  home  if  you  love  life.  I  am  the  head  of  the 
house.  The  estates  should  be  mine  and  I  intend 
to  have  them  in  spite  of  all  the  Americans  out  of 
h — 1.  I'll  brook  no  interference  from  a  boy  like  you 
— or  from  any  one  else.  Understand  ?  " 

Jack  flung  the  man  off  with  a  swing  that  sent 
him  staggering  backward,  despite  his  height  and 
weight.  "  That  is  as  may  be,"  he  said  steadily. 
"  I  accept  your  defiance  and  I  am  ready  to  go 


100  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

further  into  it  with  you  at  any  moment  you  desire." 
He  leaned  forward,  his  blue  eyes  flashing. 

Captain  Brito  steadied  himself.  His  breath  was 
coming  quickly.  His  hand  closed  on  the  hilt  of  his 
sword  till  his  knuckles  gleamed  white.  Then  he 
shook  his  head. 

"  Not  now,"  he  said.  "  Your  friends  " — he 
glanced  at  the  watching  Indians — "  are  too  numer- 
ous. They  are  too  cowardly  to  follow  Tecumseh 
northward  to  fight  for  their  homes  and  liberty,  but 
they  are  not  too  cowardly  to  join  you  against  a 
single  man.  Besides,  I  have  no  time  to  waste  on 
boys.  Later — we  will  see.  Remember,  my  warn- 
ing stands." 

Jack  shrugged  his  shoulders.  The  honors,  for  the 
moment  at  least,  were  his.  "  I  accept  your  state- 
ment that  you  are  here  only  on  personal  business," 
he  said,  slowly.  "  Therefore  I  let  you  go.  But  I 
shall  send  word  of  your  presence  to  Colonel  Johnson 
and  I  doubt  whether  he  will  accept  such  an  ex- 
planation. I  advise  you  to  be  gone." 

Brito  laughed.  He  had  regained  much  of  his 
coolness.  "  Egad !  "  he  said.  "  That's  good  ad- 
vice! Au  revoir,  cousin,  au  revoir — till  we  meet 
again."  With  a  wave  of  his  hand  he  turned  and 
strode  away. 

As  he  disappeared  among  the  huts  a  voice  struck 
on  Jack's  ear.  "Talk!  Talk!  Talk!"  it  said. 
"  Much  palaver !  And  it  never  does  no  good.  I 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  101 

been  a-listening  and  a-listening  and  you  never  got 
nowhere  till  he  grabbed  you  and  you  flung  him  off. 
That  brought  the  cuss  to  terms  mighty  quick. 
There  ain't  nothing  like  a  little  muscle  to  clear  up 
trouble.  I  thought  for  a  minute  he  was  a-going  to 
fight.  Lord !  I'd  'a  liked  to  seen  a  fight  between  you 
two.  It  would  be " 

"  Rogers ! "  Jack  broke  in  on  the  old  man's 
monologue;  a  solution  of  the  problem  that  was 
troubling  him  had  suddenly  dawned.  "  I'm  glad  to 
see  you.  Can  you  do  something  for  me?  " 

"  I  reckon  so.    I  told  you  I  could  guide  you " 

"  All  right.  I'll  engage  you."  Jack  drew  out  his 
purse.  "  Here's  two  months'  pay  in  advance.  Hunt 
up  Colonel  Johnson  and  tell  him  all  you've  heard — 
about  my  cousin,  Miss  Estelle  Telfair,  and  about 
this  British  officer  and  all.  Ask  him  to  find  her  and 
care  for  her  till  I  get  back  from  Fort  Wayne.  Put 
yourself  under  his  orders  and  do  just  as  he  says. 
I'll  be  back  in  about  a  week." 

The  old  hunter  nodded.  "I'll  do  it,"  he  de- 
clareid.  "  Money  talks  in  Ohio  same  as  elsewhere. 
And  it  talks  a  heap  eloquenter  than  tongues " 

From  the  seat  of  the  wagon  Williams  leaned  for- 
ward. "  Say,  old  man,"  he  called.  "  I  want  to 
speak  to  you  before  you  go.  I  can't " 

"  Ain't  got  time  now.  See  you  later."  Deliber- 
ately Rogers  turned  his  back  and  trotted  away. 


102  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

Clearly  he  had  not  forgotten  the  slight  that 
Williams  had  put  upon  him  the  day  before. 

Jack  turned  to  Williams.  "  Go  ahead,"  he 
ordered. 

Alagwa  started.  Absorbed  in  the  conversation, 
she  had  forgotten  her  own  situation  and  the  press- 
ing need  that  she  should  get  word  of  her  movements 
to  Tecumseh.  Now  abruptly  she  remembered.  She 
was  leaving  Girty's  Town  without  having  been  seen 
by  any  one.  Clearly  Jack  had  forgotten  her.  Not 
once  in  his  talk  with  Blue  Jacket  had  he  mentioned 
her  part  in  the  tragedy  of  the  morning.  He  had 
asked  no  one  to  identify  her.  In  another  moment 
she  would  be  gone.  Her  trail  would  be  broken  and 
the  runners  from  Tecumseh  would  be  unable  to  pick 
it  up.  Anxiously,  she  rolled  back  from  the  peep  hole 
and  half  raised  herself,  hesitating  whether  to  call 
out.  Then  she  stopped  with  a  gasp. 

At  the  rear  of  the  wagon,  looking  in,  stood  an 
Indian.  How  long  he  had  been  there  she  did  not 
know ;  but  as  her  eyes  met  his  he  made  a  swift  sign 
for  silence. 

"  Tecumseh  send.  I  follow,"  he  muttered,  in  the 
Shawnee  tongue.  "  Call  like  a  whip-poor-will  when 
you  want."  Another  moment  and  he  was  gone. 

Alagwa  dropped  back  on  her  couch  and  closed 
her  eyes  and  lay  still.  As  the  wagon  rolled  away 
her  heart  was  beating  high.  The  runners  had  found 
her.  The  broken  trail  was  whole  again. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  sun  was  visibly  declining  toward  the  west 
when  the  wagon,   driven  by  Williams   and 
followed  by  Jack  Telfair  and  Cato,  rumbled 
out  of  Girty's  Town  and  took  the  road  down  the  St. 
Marys  river. 

The  road  led  through  the  Black  Swamp,  that 
great  morass  of  water-soaked  quagmire  that  covered 
all  northwestern  Ohio,  stretching  forty  miles  from 
north  to  south  and  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles 
from  east  to  west,  from  Fort  Wayne  to  the  Cuyahoga 
and  the  Western  Reserve.  All  over  it  giant  trees 
soared  heavenward,  springing  from  sunlight-starved 
ground  on  which  no  undergrowth  could  root.  Be- 
tween lay  fallen  limbs  and  rotting  tree  trunks,  thick 
water-soaked  moss,  and  carpets  of  moldering  leaves, 
layer  upon  layer.  No  one  that  once  crossed  it  ever 
forgot  the  treacherous  quicksands  that  hid  beneath 
the  blighted  plants,  the  crumbling  logs  half  sunk 
in  shiny  pools  where  copperheads  lay  in  wait,  the 
low-hung  branches  that  dripped  moisture  to  the 
stunted  vegetation,  the  clouds  of  venomous  mos- 
quitoes, the  brilliant  flies  that  clustered  upon  the 
dead  even  before  it  was  dead,  the  labyrinths  of  tor- 
tuous runways.  Except  at  midday  no  ray  of  sun- 
light ever  penetrated  the  canopy  of  interlaced 

103 


104  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

branches  that  arched  overhead  and  that,  to  a  soar- 
ing bird,  must  have  looked  as  solid  and  unbroken  as 
a  grassy  field. 

Underfoot  the  ground  was  spongy  with  standing 
water  that  moved  sluggishly,  if  at  all,  through 
creeks  and  rivers  almost  level  with  the  surface. 
Shallow  pools,  alive  with  water-snakes,  were  every- 
where. 

A  few  roads,  so-called,  ran  through  this  swamp. 
Mad  Anthony  Wayne  had  chopped  a  way  through 
it  from  Greenville  to  Fort  Defiance,  what  time 
he  crushed  the  Miamis*  pride  and  retrieved  Harmer's 
and  St.  Clair's  defeats.  Hull  and  his  army  were 
even  then  carving  another  road  through  it  from 
Urbana  to  Detroit  and  disgrace  and  defeat.  A 
third  road,  little  more  than  a  trail,  followed  down 
the  Auglaize.  Across  these  north-south  passways 
ran  the  east-west  road  that  Jack  was  following  down 
the  St.  Marys,  from  Girty's  Town  to  Fort  Wayne. 

The  road  was  not  much  of  a  road.  Rather,  it  was 
an  Indian  trail,  broadened  by  white  men,  who  had 
hewed  down  the  great  trees  that  had  stood  along  it, 
making  a  rutted  stump-encumbered  mudhole-filled 
passage,  through  which  a  wagon  must  move  slowly 
and  perilously.  Once  started  along  it  the  team- 
ster must  go  on.  There  was  no  place  to  turn  aside 
and  few  places  when  it  was  possible  to  turn  back. 

Jack  had  no  thought  of  turning  back.  He  was 
pressing  forward  with  feverish  haste.  Fort  Wayne 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  105 

was  eighty  miles  way — a  four  days'  journey  which 
Jack  hoped  to  make  in  three.  He  was  wild  to  seek 
his  kinswoman  before  it  was  too  late.  But  he  could 
not  shirk  his  self-appointed  task.  The  departure 
of  Tecumseh  and  his  braves  for  the  north  to  join 
the  British  warned  him  anew  that  war  was  imminent 
and  that  ammunition  might  be  sorely  needed  in  the 
fort.  As  a  matter  of  fact  war  had  already  been 
declared  and  couriers  were  speeding  north,  west, 
and  south  from  Washington  bearing  the  news.  One 
was  about  to  find  General  Hull  at  Fort  Findlay, 
which  he  had  just  built  in  the  middle  of  the  Black 
Swamp. 

Throughout  the  long  afternoon  Alagwa  lay  quiet 
in  the  wagon,  steadily  gaining  her  physical  strength 
though!  not  attaining  any  great  degree  of  mental 
quietude.  Her  brain,  in  fact,  was  whirling.  Within 
two  days  she  had  passed  through  experiences  more 
outside  her  usual  routine  than  she  had  undergone 
in  all  her  life  before.  First  had  come  Captain  Brito 
with  his  claims  of  kinship  and  his  tales  of  another 
land;  then  had  followed  Tecumseh's  narration  of 
the  circumstances  under  which  she  had  come  under 
his  care,  her  appeal  to  be  allowed  to  help  those  who 
had  helped  her,  and  her  assignment  to  duty;  next 
had  come  her  disguise,  her  start  southward,  its 
tragic  ending  and  her  finding  of  the  young  white 
chief,  her  kinsman;  last  had  been  the  meeting  of 
the  two  white  men  and  the  illuminating  discourse 


106  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

between  them.  Over  all  hung  the  memory  of  the 
runner  who  was  trailing  her  through  the  forest, 
ready  to  bear  her  messages  to  Tecumseh  and  her 
friends. 

Most  of  all  her  thoughts  centered  on  Jack  and 
Brito.  Much  of  their  talk  she  had  been  unable  to 
understand,  but  certain  parts  of  it  had  been  burnt 
into  her  consciousness.  First,  she  had  great  pos- 
sessions— possessions  greatly  coveted  by  white  men. 
Tecumseh  had  said  that  all  white  men  would  commit 
any  crime  to  get  wealth;  and  she  had  accepted  his 
statement  as  a  general  fact  not  to  be  disputed.  All 
her  life  she  had  been  taught  to  believe  it.  And  now 
these  two  white  men,  her  kinsmen,  had  in  a  way  con- 
firmed it,  for  each  clearly  believed  that  the  other 
was  seeking  her,  not  for  her  own  sake,  but  for  what 
was  hers. 

Could  both  be  right,  she  wondered?  Could  both 
have  bad  hearts  and  forked  tongues?  She  re- 
membered that  Captain  Brito  had  not  told  her  of 
her  possessions  but  had  pretended  that  he  had  come 
for  her  as  a  matter  of  duty.  His  words  concerning 
this  had  been  forked,  and  she  found  it  easy  to  believe 
that  they  would  be  forked  concerning  other  things. 
But  the  other — the  young  white  chief !  Was  he  false 
also  ?  No  doubt  he  was,  she  decided  scornfully ;  his 
clear  eyes  and  frank  brow  were  merely  a  disguise 
behind  which  he  could  best  gain  his  ends.  All 
white  men  were  bad  and  he  was  no  exception.  She 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  107 

was  a  prisoner  and  she  would  probably  be  in  his 
company  for  some  time  to  come.  By  the  aid  of  her 
boy's  disguise  (Ah!  But  she  was  thankful  for  it) 
she  would  find  him  out — would  find  that  he,  too,  was 
seeking  her  for  her  wealth.  Then  she  could  hate 
him  as  she  should. 

Tired  of  lying  prone  she  tried  to  sit  up  and 
managed  to  do  so  without  feeling  the  access  of  dizzi- 
ness and  pain  that  had  attended  her  former  effort. 
She  moved  silently,  as  she  had  been  trained  to  do 
by  her  life  with  the  Indians,  and  her  change  of 
position  did  not  attract  the  notice  of  Williams, 
who  was  driving  stolidly  along.  Almost  instantly, 
however,  the  rear  of  the  wagon  was  darkened  by  a 
horse's  head  and  above  it  she  saw  the  smiling  blue 
eyes  of  the  young  chief. 

"  Well,  youngster !  "  he  called,  merrily.  "  How 
are  you  ?  Feeling  better  ?  " 

Color  flooded  the  girl's  cheeks  as  she  gazed  at 
him.  He  was  even  pleasanter-looking  than  her 
memory  had  told  her.  From  his  broad  forehead  to 
his  square,  resolute  chin  and  smiling,  trustful  mouth, 
he  was  all  she  could  have  hoped.  She  felt  her  care- 
fully nurtured  distrust  melting  and  strove  to  call  it 
back. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  with  a  sudden  catch  of  her 
breath.  "  Yes.  Better." 

"  That's  good."  Jack  pushed  back  his  hat  and 
wiped  away  the  perspiration  that  stood  upon  his 


108  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

brow.  "  You  are  not  much  hurt,  really,"  he  went 
on.  "  The  bullet  cut  the  artery  of  your  leg  and 
you  lost  a  whole  lot  of  blood;  in  fact,  you  were 
pretty  nearly  drained  dry  before  I  could  stop  it. 
Except  for  that  it  didn't  do  much  harm,  and  as  soon 
as  you  get  back  your  strength  you'll  be  up  and 
about." 

The  girl  nodded  slowly.  "  You  are  very  good," 
she  said. 

Jack  shrugged  away  her  comment.  "  I  didn't 
know  where  you  were  going,"  he  insinuated,  "or  how 
you  came  to  be  where  you  were,  but  I  couldn't  stop, 
and  of  course  I  couldn't  leave  you,  so  I  just  bundled 
you  into  the  wagon  and  brought  you  along.  I  was 
bound  for  Wapakoneta  but  I've  had  to  turn  off  to 
Fort  Wayne  instead,  so  that's  where  we're  going. 
I  hope  it  meets  your  approval."  He  ended  with  a 
smile. 

The  girl  understood  that  she  was  being  ques- 
tioned. She  had  determined  what  to  say  and  she 
answered  quickly,  in  fairly  good  English,  noticing 
that  Williams  was  listening  as  she  spoke.  "  I  come 
from  Wapakoneta !  " 

Jack  stared.  "  You  mean  you  lived  there  with 
the  Indians  ?  " 

"  For  many  moons  I  have  lived  there.  I  know  no 
other  life  but  that." 

"  You  were  a  prisoner  ?  " 

"  Prisoner !     No !    Yes !    Perhaps  you  call  it  so. 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  109 

I  think  the  Shawnees  carry  me  away  from  some- 
where when  I  am  a  child.  I  have  lived  with  them 
ever  since.  They  were  good  to  me.  I  travel  the 
long  trail  south  with  the  chief  Wilwiloway  when  that 
wicked  white  man  kill  him." 

Jack's  face  darkened.  "  It  was  a  brutal  murder," 
he  said,  sharply,  glancing  at  Williams.  "  It  shall 
be  punished.  But  what  is  your  name?  Where 
do  your  friends  live  ?  Where  do  you  want  to  go  ?  " 

The  girl  shook  her  head.  "  I  do  not  know  what 
my  name  was. before  I  came  to  the  Shawnees,"  she 
answered,  slowly.  "  The  Indians  call  me  Boba- 
panawe." 

"  Bobapanawe.  That  means  *  lightning,'  doesn't 
it?"  Jack  laughed.  "It  suits  you  all  right,  but 
I'm  afraid  it's  too  much  of  a  mouthful.  I'll  call 
you  Bob,  if  you  don't  object.  I  suppose  you  don't 
know  anything  about  your  friends  ?  " 

The  girl  shook  her  head.  "  I  have  no  friends  ex- 
cept among  the  Shawnees,"  she  answered.  "  Per- 
haps I  had  better  go  back  to  them."  As  she  spoke 
she  half  closed  her  eyes,  but  through  her  long, 
curling  eyelashes  she  watched  Jack's  face. 

"  Go  back  to  the  Indians !  Great  Scott  1  You 
can't  do  that." 

"  But  where  then  shall  I  go?  " 

"  Well "  Jack  scratched  his  head—"  we'll 

have  to  think  about  that.  Maybe  we'll  be  able  to 


110  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

find  out  something  about  your  people  when  we  get 
to  Fort  Wayne." 

The  wagon  had  been  moving  slower  and  slower, 
the  tired  mules  showing  little  desire  to  hasten.  As 
Jack  finished  speaking  they  stopped  short,  and 
Williams  turned  around. 

"  Say !  "  he  said.  "  These  mules  are  plumb  wore 
out.  We  got  to  stop  unless  you  want  to  kill  'em." 

Jack  rode  to  the  front  of  the  wagon  and  stared 
ahead  through  the  dimming  corridors  of  coming 
night.  All  afternoon  the  wagon  had  been  moving 
through  a  deepening  gloom,  and  now  the  darkness 
seemed  to  have  shut  down.  One  single  patch  of  blue 
sky,  far  ahead,  told  where  the  road  came  out  for  a 
moment  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  and  showed  that 
the  sun  had  not  yet  set. 

"  There  seems  to  be  an  opening  a  couple  of  hun- 
dred yards  ahead,"  he  said.  "  We'll  stop  there. 
Drive  on  if  you  can." 

Williams  cracked  the  whip  and  shouted,  but 
the  tired  mules  refused  to  respond,  until  Cato  came 
forward. 

"  Dat  ain't  no  way  to  treat  a  mule,  massa,"  he 
said.  "  Lemme  try  what  I  can  do,  massa,  please 
do,  suh." 

Williams  flung  down  the  reins  and  jumped  from 
the  wagon  to  the  ground.  Anger  and  fear  had  sadly 
frayed  his  temper.  "  Try  what  you  d —  please," 
he  growled,  and  walked  ahead,  leaving  Cato  to  coax 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  111 

the  mules  to  a  fresh  effort  that  brought  the  wagon 
at  last  to  the  spot  that  Jack  had  selected. 

As  the  wagon  stopped,  Jack  went  to  the  back. 
"  Come  out,  youngster,"  he  ordered,  kindly.  "  It'll 
do  you  good  to  stand  and  move  about  a  little."  He 
held  out  his  arms  as  he  spoke. 

But  the  girl  shrank  back.  "  I  can  get  out  alone," 
she  faltered. 

Jack  grinned.  "  All  right !  "  he  agreed,  cheer- 
fully. "  Try  it  if  you  like.  I'll  catch  you  if  you 
fall."  He  stood  back  and  waited. 

Cautiously  the  girl  clambered  out  and  down.  She 
reached  the  ground  safely,  but  as  her  weight  came 
upon  her  wounded  leg,  she  tottered  and  would  have 
fallen  if  Jack  had  not  caught  her  and  held  her  up, 
while  the  swimming  world  spun  round. 

Her  pride  vanished  and  she  clung  to  him  des- 
perately, feeling  again  the  curious  sense  of  safety 
that  she  had  felt  when  he  had  held  her  a  few  hours 
before.  She  clung  fast  until  the  rush  of  blood  to 
her  temples  quieted ;  then,  as  she  straightened  her- 
self, she  heard  Jack's  voice. 

"  Bravo !  "  he  cried.  "  You're  doing  fine.  Just 
a  step  or  two — a  step  or  two.  There!  That's  it." 
She  felt  herself  lowered  to  a  seat  upon  a  great  lime- 
stone boulder  that  protruded  from  the  mold  close 
against  a  big  tree.  "  How  does  your  wound  feel 
now?  " 

"  Good !  "   The  girl  stretched  her  leg  cautiously. 


112  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

"  I  guess  I'd  better  not  disturb  the  dressings  to- 
night," went  on  the  boy,  doubtfully.  "  I  did  the 
best  I  could  this  morning,  and  it  would  probably  do 
more  harm  than  good  to  fool  with  them.  What  do 
you  think." 

"  Wound  does  very  well."  Not  for  worlds  would 
Alagwa  have  submitted  it  to  his  inspection. 

Jack  slipped  away  and  the  girl  leaned  back 
against  the  tree  and  looked  about  her  curiously. 
The  outer  world,  dark  as  it  wag  with  the  shadows  of 
coming  night,  looked  good  to  her  after  the  long 
hours  she  had  spent  in  the  gloom  of  the  wagon. 
Fresh  blood  was  filling  her  veins  and  her  spirits  were 
reviving.  She  had  not  forgotten  Wilwiloway  and 
his  cruel  murder,  but  her  memory  had  been  blurred 
both  by  weakness  and  by  the  rush  of  new  sensations. 

The  spot,  though  by  no  means  ideal  for  a  camp, 
was  probably  the  best  that  the  region  afforded.  It 
was  on  a  low  ridge  or  dune  of  sand,  part  off  an 
ancient  beach  heaped  up  when  Lake  Erie  spread 
far  beyond  its  modern  bounds.  It  stood  three  or 
four  feet  instead  of  only  as  many  inches  above  the 
sluggish  river.  On  the  near  bank  a  giant  oak, 
undermined  by  the  stream  through  uncounted  years, 
had  toppled  sideways  until  its  branches  swept  the 
dark  water.  The  sunlight  had  slipped  in  along  the 
slit  made  by  the  river  and  had  rested  on  the 
mold,  stirring  it  to  life.  For  a  hundred  feet  or 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  113 

more  a  thick  mat  of  pea-vines  and  annis  grass 
bordered  the  stream,  and  toward  these  the  tired 
mules  were  straining,  even  while  Cato  was  loosening 
their  harness.  Close  beneath  the  leaning  tree  Jack 
was  kindling  a  fire,  small,  after  the  Indian  fashion, 
but  sufficient  for  their  needs.  Williams  was  chop- 
ping down  some  bushes  that  had  found  lodgment  on 
either  side  of  the  tree.  No  one  was  paying  any  at- 
tention to  Alagwa. 

Later,  however,  after  Cato,  who  like  most  of  his 
race  was  a  born  cook,  had  prepared  the  supper  of 
wild  turkey  and  fat  bacon  and  cornpone,  Jack 
glanced  at  her  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye.  Then 
he  called  to  Cato :  "  Fetch  the  grub  over  here, 
Cato,"  he  ordered,  pointing  to  the  great  boulder 
on  which  the  girl  sat.  "  This  stone  will  do  for  a 
table." 

Alagwa's  heart  warmed.  Instinctively  she  knew 
that  he  had  chosen  the  supper  place  for  her  con- 
venience. 

Night  came  on  while  they  were  eating.  The  red 
tints  that  stretched  up  from  the  west  faded  to  palest 
gray.  Closer  and  closer  in  drew  the  forest  till  it 
seemed  to  press  like  a  wall  upon  the  little  band, 
blotting  out  their  forms  and  leaving  only  the  dim 
glimmer  of  their  pale  faces.  Cato's  darker  skin  it 
hid  altogether.  Beneath  the  leaning  trees  the  dying 
fire  glowed  like  a  red  eye.  To  the  south  the  strip  of 
water  reflected  what  little  light  was  left. 
8 


114  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

With  the  closing  in  of  the  night  the  four  grew 
very  still,  thinking  their  own  thoughts  and  dreaming 
their  own  dreams. 

Jack  was  pondering  on  his  mission  to  Tecumseh 
and  on  his  failure  to  reach  the  Indian  chief.  Had 
he  done  right,  he  wondered,  to  quit  his  chosen  trail, 
especially  in  view  of  Brito  Telfair's  appearance  on 
the  scene?  Could  not  Williams  and  his  ammunition 
have  reached  Fort  Wayne  in  safety  without  his  aid? 
Would  Rogers  be  able  to  do  anything?  Suppose  he 
should  never  find  this  kinswoman  of  his?  Suppose 
she  lost  her  life  by  reason  of  his  delay?  For  a  mo- 
ment his  turning  aside  looked  to  him  unnecessary, 
ridiculous,  quixotic.  Then  he  set  his  teeth.  No! 
He  had  done  right.  Fort  Wayne  was  of  enormous 
importance  to  the  country ;  on  its  holding  might  de- 
pend the  safety  of  the  whole  northwest.  The  govern- 
ment had  been  mad  to  send  ammunition  without  ade- 
quate escort  through  a  possibly  hostile  country,  but 
the  madness  of  the  government  did  not  excuse  him 
from  doing  what  he  could  to  retrieve  the  blunder  and 
to  stop  the  frightful  consequences  that  might  easily 
result  from  the  murder  of  the  Shawnee. 

Williams  had  been  moving  uneasily ;  he  had  had 
time  to  meditate  on  his  position,  and  he  had  lost 
much  of  his  confidence.  Abruptly  he  spoke. 
"  Say !  "  he  said.  "  Can't  we  fix  this  thing  up  be- 
fore we  get  to  Fort  Wayne?  'Spose  I  did  do  wrong 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  115 

in  shootin'  that  Injun?  'Spose  he  did  make  a  peace 
sign?  I'd  didn't  know  it.  He  jumped  outer  those 
bushes  and  flung  up  his  hand  an'  I  thought  he  was 
goin*  to  jump  us,  an'  I  banged  loose  without  stop- 
pin'  to  think.  It  was  my  fault.  I'll  own  up.  But 
it's  done  an'  can't  be  undone.  What's  the  use  of 
stirrin*  things  up?  " 

Jack  did  not  answer  for  a  time.  At  last  he  spoke 
slowly,  with  the  uncompromising  severity  of  youth. 
"  You  committed  a  wanton  murder,"  he  said,  "  a 
murder  that  caused  the  death  of  two  men.  It  may 
be  that  you  will  get  off  scot  free,  considering  the 
state  of  affairs.  I  rather  think  you  will.  But  if 
you  do,  I  tell  you  frankly  it  will  be  by  no  aid  of 
mine.  Now,  you  and  Cato  had  better  lie  down  and 
get  some  sleep.  It's  late  and  we  must  start  early  to- 
morrow. I'll  keep  watch." 

Williams  obeyed  promptly,  though  surlily, 
slouching  off  to  his  blanket  beneath  the  great  lean- 
ing tree. 

Alagwa  stared  after  him.  "  Will  you  not  tie 
him?  "  she  asked,  incredulously. 

Jack  chuckled.  "Not  I,"  he  said.  "  If  he  wants 
to  slip  away  in  the  night,  let  him.  It  would  save  me 
some  trouble.  Go  to  bed,  Cato." 

Cato,  however,  demurred.  "  Ain't  you  goin'  to  let 
me  help  you  watch,  Mars'  Jack?  "  he  questioned. 

Jack  looked  at  him  and  grinned.     "  Think  you 


116  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

can  keep  awake,  Cato? "  he  asked.  "  Sure  you 
won't  get  to  thinking  about  Mandy  or  Sue  and  go 
to  sleep? 

"  Now,  Mars'  Jack,  you  knows  mighty  well — 

"I  know  mighty  well  you'll  do  your  best,  Cato. 
Go  lie  down,  now.  I'll  call  you  at  midnight  and  let 
you  keep  the  midwatch." 

When  Cato  had  bedded  himself  down  not  far  from 
Williams,  Jack  turned  to  Alagwa.  "  Are  you  ready 
for  bed,  youngster  ?  "  he  asked.  "  If  you're  not  too 
sleepy,  I'd  like  to  ask  you  a  few  questions." 

Alagwa's  heart  fluttered.  What  did  he  want,  this 
wonderful-  white  man,  this  stranger  who  was  yet  a 
kinsman,  this  enemy  with  the  friendly  blue  eyes? 
"  I  am  not  sleepy,"  she  faltered. 

"  I  won't  keep  you  up  long.  You  know  Tecumseh, 
of  course?  " 

Somehow  the  girl  felt  disappointed.  "  Yes,"  she 
said.  "  I  know  him." 

"  Then,"  Jack  hesitated,  "  do  you  know  a  white 
girl  that  has  grown  up  in  his  lodge — a  girl  a  little 
older  than  yourself,  I  reckon.  Her  father  died  and 
left  her  with  him  about  ten  years  ago.  Do  you 
know  her?  " 

What  possessed  Alagwa,  she  never  knew.  Perhaps 
it  was  merely  the  eternal  feminine  instinct  to  mis- 
lead the  male.  Almost  without  hesitation  she  an- 
swered. "  Yes,"  she  said,  slowly.  '*  I  have  see  her, 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  117 

but  men  do  not  associate  with  squaws.  I  see  her 
little." 

"  What  does  she  look  like?  " 

The  girl  shrugged  her  shoulders.  '*  She  is  dark, 
very  dark,  darker  than  the  Indians,"  she  said. 
"  She  has  black  eyes  and  square  face.  I  not  know 
she  is  white  till  someone  tell  me.  She  look  like  a 
Shawnee." 

Jack's  face  fell.  "  Oh !  I  say !  "  he  exclaimed. 
"  That's  too  bad.  I  was  told  that  she  was  very 
pretty." 

The  girl's  lip  curled.  "  You  not  like  her  unless 
she  is  pretty?  "  she  questioned,  scornfully. 

Jack  laughed.  "  Of  course,  I'll  like  her  whether 
she  is  pretty  or  not,"  he  answered.  "  She  is  a  cousin 
of  mine,  and  I'll  like  her  whatever  she  looks  like. 
Do  you  know  where  she  is  now?  " 

Alagwa  hesitated.  "  I  see  her  yesterday  at 
Wapakoneta,"  she  answered. 

"  You  did !  Then  Tecumseh  did  not  take  her  with 
him?" 

"  No,  Tecumseh  took  only  warriors.  Women  do 
not  go  on  the  warpath.  Why  do  you  seek  her  ?  " 

The  night  had  grown  lighter.  A  silvery  glimmer, 
resting  on  the  tops  of  the  trees  above  the  river, 
showed  that  the  moon  was  mounting.  Against  the 
sky  the  nearer  branches  waved  gently,  ebony  laced 
on  silver.  Stray  moonbeams  spotted  the  lower 
branches. 


118  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

Jack  stared  at  the  mirror-like  water  for  some 
time  before  he  answered.  At  last,  quite  simply,  he 
told  the  story.  "  You  see,  it's  a  point  of  honor," 
he  finished.  "  Our  branch  is  bound  to  help  her 
branch,  when  need  arises,  just  as  Indian  clan- 
brothers  must  help  each  other — a  Wolf  a  Wolf,  and 
a  Panther  a  Panther.  The  Tel  fairs  were  a  great 
house  in  France  in  their  day,  and  this  girl  has  great 
lands  there.  It  is  my  duty  to  see  that  she  comes 
to  her  own." 

"  But — but  you  do  not  seek  her.  You  turn  away 
and  leave  her." 

"  Don't  I  know  it?  "  Jack's  tones  were  desperate. 
"When  I  think— But  I  can't  help  it.  There 
are  five  thousand  white  women  and  children  along 
this  frontier  whose  lives  might  pay  the  forfeit  if 
Fort  Wayne  should  fall.  And  without  the  ammuni- 
tion in  this  wagon — Oh!  I've  been  over  the  prob- 
lem again  and  again  and  there's  only  one  answer. 
I've  got  to  get  this  wagon  to  Fort  Wayne  first  and 
look  for  the  girl  afterwards.  As  soon  as  I  have 
done  that  I  will  go  back  to  hunt  for  her.  Mean- 
while I've  sent  word  to  Colonel  Johnson  and  I've 
commissioned  Tom  Rogers  to  help  him." 

Feeling,  strong  and  intense,  spoke  in  the  boy's 
tones.  Alagwa  could  not  mistake  it.  A  sudden  in- 
tense desire  for  his  friendship  possessed  her.  She 
wanted — oh !  how  she  wanted  to  be  cared  for  by  one 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  119 

of  her  blood.  "And — and  what  of  me?"  she  fal- 
tered. 

"  You?  "  The  sudden  turn  in  the  talk  took  Jack 
by  surprise.  "You?  Why?  I  reckon  we'll  learn 
something  about  your  friends  at  Fort  Wayne 
and " 

"  No !  No !  I  have  no  friends."  The  girl's 
tones  were  full  of  tears. 

Jack  put  out  his  hand  quickly.  "  Yes,  you  have, 
you  poor  little  devil,"  he  declared.  "  You've  got 
one  friend,  anyhow.  I'll  see  that  you're  provided 
for,  whatever  comes !  " 

Alagwa  shook  off  his  hand.  "  I  will  not  stay 
alone  in  the  white  man's  camp,"  she  protested. 
"  They  are  all  liars  and  robbers  and  murderers.  I 
hate  them,  hate  them,  hate  them." 

"  Poor  little  chap !  "  Jack  reached  out  his  arms 
and  drew  the  girl  toward  him.  For  a  moment  she 
hung  back,  then  her  head  dropped  upon  his  breast 
and  she  began  to  sob  softly. 

Jack  let  her  cry  on.  Always  he  had  despised 
boys  who  cried,  and  Alagwa  was  bigger  than  any 
boy  he  had  ever  seen  with  tears  in  his  eyes.  Yet, 
somehow,  he  felt  only  pity  for  her. 

"  Poor  little  chap,"  he  murmured  again.  "  You've 
had  an  awful  day  of  it,  haven't  you?  You  ought 
to  be  asleep  this  very  moment  instead  of  sitting  up 
here  talking  to  a  chump  like  me.  Come !  let  me  help 


120  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

you  into  the  wagon."  He  rose,  drawing  the  girl 
to  her  feet  beside  him.  "  Come,"  he  repeated. 

But  Alagwa  held  back.  "  You — you  will  not 
leave  me  at  Fort  Wayne  ?  "  she  begged.  "  You 
will  take  me  with  you.  I — I  can  help  you  find  the 
girl." 

Jack  started.  **  By  Jove !  So  you  can !  "  he  ex- 
claimed. "  All  right.  We'll  leave  it  so.  If  we 
don't  find  your  friends  you  sh^ll  stay  with  me. 
Now  you  must  go  to  bed  and  to  sleep." 


CHAPTER  IX 

ALAGWA  went  to  rest  willingly  enough,  but 
for  a  long  time  she  did  not  sleep.  She  was 
thinking  of  what  Jack  had  said  about  the 
ammunition  that  he  was  taking  to  Fort  Wayne  and 
of  its  importance  to  the  garrison  there.  If  she 
could  destroy  it  or  give  it  over  to  the  Indians  she 
would  have  done  much  to  carry  out  her  pledge  to 
Tecumseh.  Carefully,  she  felt  the  boxes  on  which  she 
lay,  only  to  find  their  tops  nailed  hard  and  fast, 
far  beyond  the  power  of  her  slender  fingers  to 
loosen. 

Could  she  get  word  to  the  runner  ?  She  was  sure 
he  was  near.  Perhaps  there  were  others  with  him. 
Perhaps  they  could  capture  or  destroy  the  wagon. 
It  would  cost  Jack  his  life ;  she  knew  that  and  was 
sorry  for  it,  but  the  fact  did  not  make  her  pause. 
Against  his  life  stood  the  lives  of  dozens  of  her 
people,  who  would  be  slain  by  this  ammunition. 
No !  The  white  men  had  dug  up  the  tomahawk ;  and 
Jack  and  they  must  take  the  consequences. 

But  how  could  she  get  word  to  the  runner  ?  The 
camp  was  guarded.  Dimly,  she  could  descry  Jack's 
form  against  the  limestone  boulder  on  which  she 
and  he  had  sat  and  talked.  Instinctively  she  knew 
that  he  would  not  sleep,  and  she  knew,  too,  that  the 

121 


122  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

runner  was  not  likely  to  appear  unless  she  sum- 
moned him.  And  she  saw  no  way  to  summon  him 
without  betraying  herself  and  wrecking  her  mis- 
sion without  gain.  Vainly  her  tired  brain  fluttered. 
At  last,  wearied  out,  she  lay  quiescent,  determined 
to  watch  and  wait.  Perhaps  a  chance  might  come. 

For  hours  she  forced  herself  to  lie  awake.  But  she 
had  not  counted  on  the  weakness  due  to  her  loss  of 
blood  and  on  the  insistent  demand  of  her  nature  for 
sleep  to  replenish  the  drain.  Fight  against  it  as  she 
might,  sleep  crept  upon  her,  insistent,  not  to  be 
denied.  Heavier  and  heavier  grew  her  eyelids,  and 
though  again  and  again  she  forced  them  back,  in 
time  nature  would  no  longer  be  denied. 

When  she  waked  darkness  was  about  her.  For 
an  instant  she  thought  she  was  back  in  the  Indian 
lodge  at  Wapakoneta.  Then  the  patch  of  moon- 
lit sky  that  showed  at  the  foot  of  the  wagon  caught 
her  eyes  and  told  her  the  truth. 

With  an  effort  she  sat  up.  The  hours  of  sleep  had 
strengthened  her  immensely.  Young,  pure-blooded, 
healthy,  her  system  had  already  made  up  much  of 
the  blood  she  had  lost.  New  life  was  coursing 
through  her  veins.  Except  for  the  soreness  and  stiff- 
ness in  her  leg  she  felt  almost  herself  again. 

From  where  she  lay  she  could  see  moonbeams  on 
the  trees  south  of  the  river.  If  she  had  been  familiar 
with  white  man's  time  she  would  have  said  that  it 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  123 

was  about  four  o'clock.  Cautiously  she  sat  up  and 
looked  out  over  the  tail  of  the  wagon. 

The  camp  was  shrouded  in  darkness,  but  after  a 
time  she  made  out  a  blanketed  form  stretched  be- 
neath the  great  slanting  tree.  This  was  Williams, 
she  knew.  In  the  middle  of  the  ground,  close  to 
where  the  campfire  had  burned,  lay  another  form, 
almost  invisible  against  the  dark  soil.  To  the 
north,  toward  the  road,  across  the  rock  that  had  so 
lately  served  her  both  for  chair  and  table,  sprawled 
a  third  form,  whose  heavy  breathing  came  distinctly 
to  her  ears.  He  was  a  mere  blur  in  the  darkness, 
but  Alagwa  knew  that  Jack  had  intended  to  take 
both  the  first  and  the  last  watches  and  to  give  the 
midwatch  to  Cato.  She  knew,  therefore,  that  the 
sentinel  must  be  Cato.  And  she  knew  that  he  was 
asleep. 

Sharply  she  drew  her  breath.  Now  was  her 
chance  to  give  the  call  of  the  whip-poor-will.  Al- 
most she  had  framed  her  lips  to  sound  it. 

Then  suddenly  and  silently  a  head  rose  at  the  tail 
of  the  wagon  and  two  fierce  eyes  bored  questioningly 
into  hers.  Even  in  the  darkness  she  could  make  out 
the  horribly  painted  features.  No  civilized  woman 
would  have  met  such  a  vision  without  screaming, 
but  Alagwa  had  been  well  trained.  A  single  heart- 
rending start  she  gave,  then  faced  the  warrior. 

The  latter  did  not  delay.  He  said  no  word,  but 
he  raise'd  his  tomahawk  an3  swept  it  around  the 


124  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

camp  toward  the  sleeping  men.  A  voiceless  ques- 
tion glittered  in  his  eyes. 

For  a  single  moment  Alagwa's  heart  stopped 
short ;  then  it  raced  furiously,  beating  with  great 
throbs  that  shook  her  slender  frame  and  that  to 
her  strained  consciousness  seemed  to  echo  drum-like 
through  the  sleeping  camp.  Now  was  the  chance 
for  which  she  had  longed.  By  a  single  blow  she 
might  avenge  Wilwiloway,  might  win  the  wagon- 
load  of  ammunition  for  her  people,  and  might  weaken 
the  ruthless  enemy  whom  she  so  hated.  Now !  Now ! 
Now !  Her  brain  thrilled  with  the  summons. 

Abruptly  the  glow  faded.  She  could  not,  could 
not,  give  the  word  to  kill.  Not  for  all  the  ammuni- 
tion in  the  land,  not  for  the  lives  of  all  the  Shawnee 
braves  that  lived,  not  for  victory  that  would  endure 
forever,  could  she  give  the  word  that  would  bring 
about  the  deaths  of  sleeping  men.  Desperately  she 
shook  her  head  and  raised  her  hand,  imperatively 
pointing  to  the  forest. 

The  runner  hesitated.  Again,  with  mute  insist- 
ence, he  renewed  his  deadly  question,  and  again 
Alagwa  said  him  nay.  At  last,  with  a  shrug  of  his 
naked  shoulders,  he  dropped  his  arm.  An  instant 
more  and  the  night  had  swallowed  him  up. 

Alagwa  dropped  back  gasping.  Now  that  the 
chance  was  gone  she  longed  for  its  return.  A  blaze 
of  hate  shook  her — hate  for  the  white  men  and  for 
herself.  She  was  a  traitor,  a  coward,  a  weakling, 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  125 

she  told  herself  fiercely.  She  had  broken  faith  with 
Tecumseh.  She  had  failed  in  her  duty  to  her  peo- 
ple. The  white  blood  she  had  inherited  had  be- 
trayed her.  Oh!  If  she  could  drain  it  from  her 
veins  and  be  red,  all  red.  Despairingly  she  covered 
her  face  with  her  hands  and  her  shoulders  shook. 
An  hour  slipped  by  and  still  dry  sobs  racked  her 
slender  body. 

Suddenly,  a  sound  from  near  the  great  leaning 
tree  reached  her  ears  and  she  straightened  up,  star- 
ing into  the  faint  light  of  the  coming  dawn.  The 
sleeper  beneath  it  had  shifted  his  position.  As 
she  watched  he  sat  up,  cocking  his  head,  evidently 
listening  to  the  heavy  breathing  of  the  negro.  Then 
he  began  to  crawl  noiselessly  toward  the  wagon. 

Alagwa  drew  her  breath  sharply.  She  knew 
the  man  was  Williams  and  she  knew  why  he  was 
coming.  She^knew  that  the  heavy  rifle  that  Jack 
had  taken  from  him  was  in  the  wagon  and  that  he 
was  trying  to  regain  it.  When  he  did  regain  it, 
what  would  he  do?  Would  he  not  turn  upon  the 
young  chief,  who  was  taking  him  to  be  punished  for 
the  murder  of  Wilwiloway,  and  who  had  saved  and 
befriended  her.  She  could  not  doubt  it. 

She  must  stop  him.  But  how?  Fiercely  but 
silently  she  laughed  to  herself.  With  His  own 
rifle  she  would  check  him.  It  was  in  the  wagon, 
close  beside  her!  Powder-horn  and  bullet-pouch 
hung  beside  it.  Jack  had  left  them  in  her  care 


126  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

without  a  thought.  Noiselessly  she  felt  for  the  rifle 
and  noiselessly  she  drew  it  toward  her.  It  was 
loaded,  she  knew.  From  the  powder-horn  that 
hung  beside  it  she  primed  it  and  thrust  it  across  the 
tail  of  the  wagon  toward  the  creeping  man. 

As  the  sights  fell  in  line  upon  him  hate  blazed  up 
within  her.  He  was  at  her  mercy  now — he,  the 
murderer  of  Wilwiloway.  The  gods  had  given  him 
into  her  hand.  To  slay  him  was  her  right  and  her 
duty.  Should  she  do  it?  Her  finger  curled  about 
the  trigger.  A  little  stronger  pressure  and  Wil- 
wiloway would  be  avenged. 

Her  Indian  gods,  the  gods  of  vengeance,  the  gods 
that  called  for  the  payment  of  the  blood  debt, 
thundered  in  her  ears.  "  Kill !  Kill ! "  they  clam- 
ored. "  Kill !  Faithless  daughter  of  the  Shawnees  ! 
Kill !  "  Of  the  Christian  God  she  knew  nothing;  mis- 
sionaries had  not  yet  brought  him  to  Wapakoneta, 
though  the  time  when  they  would  do  so  was  close 
at  hand.  Steadily  her  finger  tightened  about  the 
trigger. 

Then  it  relaxed.  What  would  Jack  say — Jack 
with  the  broad  forehead  and  the  clear  blue  eyes? 
Would  he  approve?  She  knew  that  he  would  not. 
Instinctively  she  knew  it.  Too  well  her  imagination 
mirrored  forth  the  condemnation  in  his  eyes.  She 
did  not  understand  the  white  man's  ideas  of  law 
and  justice.  She  had  suffered  too  bitterly  from 
their  working;  but  she  knew — knew — that  Jack 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  127 

understood  them  and  that  he  would  not  countenance 
her  taking  vengeance  into  her  own  hands. 

Slowly  her  finger  relaxed  its  pressure.  She 
leaned  forward  and  gently  clicked  her  tongue 
against  the  roof  of  her  mouth. 

The  crouching  man  heard  it  and  stopped  short. 
She  clicked  again,  and  he  looked  up  and  saw  the 
girl's  face,  white  in  the  dawn,  staring  at  him  over 
the  round  black  eye  of  the  rifle.  With  a  muffled  cry 
he  sprang  to  his  feet,  throwing  out  his  hands  as  if 
to  ward  off  the  imminent  death. 

The  shot  did  not  come,  and  He  began  to  shrink 
back.  Step  by  step  he  moved  and  silently  the  rifle 
followed  him.  Once  he  paused  and  held  out  his 
hands  as  if  offering  a  bargain.  But  the  rifle  held 
inexorably  and  after  a  time  he  resumed  his  halting 
retreat. 

At  last  he  reached  his  blankets.  Above  them  he 
paused  and  shook  his  fist  at  her  furiously. 

Dark  as  it  still  was,  Alagwa  could  not  mistake 
his  gestures  nor  doubt  their  meaning.  He  was 
swearing  vengeance  against  her.  Once  more  her 
finger  curled  about  the  trigger.  She  remembered 
the  Shawnee  proverb  about  the  man  who  let  a  rattle- 
snake live.  Was  she  letting  a  rattlesnake  live? 

As  she  hesitated,  Cato  grunted,  groaned,  and 
moved,  and  the  man  dropped  swiftly  down.  Alagwa 
sighed ;  her  chance  was  gone,  perhaps  forever. 

Cato  sat  up,  clutching  at  the  rifle  that  had  slipped 


128  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

from  his  grasp.  Stiffly  he  rose  to  his  feet.  For  a 
moment  he  hesitated,  then  he  walked  over  to  Jack 
and  shook  him  gently. 

"  It's  time  to  git  up,  Mars'  Jack,"  he  said. 

Jack  sat  up.  "  Why !  Cato !  You  scoundrel !  "  he 
exclaimed.  "  It's  morning.  You've  let  me  sleep 
all  night." 

Cato  scratched  his  head  hesitatingly.  Then  an  ex- 
pression of  conscious  virtue  dawned  upon  his  face. 
"  Yessah !  Mars'  Jack,"  he  said.  "  You  was 
sleepin'  so  nice  I  just  couldn't  bear  to  wake  you." 

*'  Humph !  Well !  Everything  seems  to  be  all 
right.  It's  turned  out  well,  Cato,  but  you  mustn't 
do  it  again.  You  haven't  heard  any  suspicious 
noises  or  anything,  have  you  ?  " 

The  negro  shook  his  head  *eNo,  sah,"  he  de- 
clared. "  Everything's  been  just  as  peaceful  as  if 
we  was  back  on  the  Tallapoosa.  You  c'n  trust 
Cato  to  keep  watch ;  dat  you  can,  sah." 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  forest  was  breaking.  The  arcades  of 
spell-bound  woods  that  for  three  days  had 
hemmed  the  road  were  losing  their  con- 
tinuity, giving  place  to  glades  choked  with  under- 
brush and  dappled  with  sunbeams.  The  chill  of  the 
swamp  land  was  vanishing  and  the  landscape  was 
momently  sweetening  with  the  fragrance  of  annis 
grass  and  of  fern.  Now  and  again  golden-green 
branches  showed  against  a  blue,  cloud-flecked  sky. 

Jack  and  Alagwa,  the  latter  mounted  on  Cato's 
horse,  were  riding  behind  the  wagon,  chatting  to- 
gether and  looking  forward,  not  altogether  eagerly, 
to  the  change  in  surroundings  which  they  knew  must 
be  at  hand. 

The  strain  of  the  first  night  had  for  the  moment 
exhausted  the  girl's  capacity  to  hate.  She  had 
touched  a  high  point  and  had  sunk  back.  When  she 
saw  that  Jack  and  Cato  were  awake,  reaction  had 
overcome  her  an3  she  had  sunk  back  on  her  couch  in 
the  wagon,  mind  and  heart  both  blank.  When, 
later,  she  had  forced  herself  to  crawl  from  the  wagon 
to  join  the  others  in  a  hasty  breakfast,  she  had  done 
so  listlessly  and  silently.  Still  later,  though  she 
had  gathered  strength  and  vigor  with  the  mounting 
day,  she  ha3  found  herself  incapable  of  thinking  of 
9  129 


130  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

either  the  past  or  the  future.  Like  any  other  wild 
creature  that  had  been  driven  beyond  its  strength, 
she  could  do  nothing  but  exist.  When  the  thought 
of  the  future  and  of  her  mission  rose  in  her  mind 
she  deliberately  forced  it  back.  She  had  refused 
to  countenance  an  attack  upon  the  wagon  when  it 
was  at  her  mercy;  never  again  would  she  connive 
at  its  destruction.  She  had  taken  early  occasion 
to  warn  Cato  that  his  dereliction  from  duty  had  not 
passeid  unobserved,  and  she  had  won  his  eternal 
gratitude,  to  say  nothing  of  his  vows  never  to  sleep 
on  watch  again,  by  promising  not  to  tell  Jack. 
Apart  from  this,  then,  was  nothing  for  her  to  do 
until  she  reached  Fort  Wayne.  Until  then  she  could 
live  only  for  the  moment. 

For  the  moment  also  she  had  laid  aside  her  dis- 
trust of  Jack.  His  heart  might  be  bad,  but  his 
words  were  pleasant,  and  she  would  enjoy  them  while 
she  could. 

Swiftly  the  hours  sped  by.  Her  wound  was  heal- 
ing fast  and  gave  her  little  trouble.  After  the  first 
day  she  found  herself  able  to  ride  a  little,  and  on  the 
last  day  she  remained  almost  continuously  in  the 
saddle,  Jack  by  her  side,  talking  the  hours  away. 

Infinite  was  her  ignorance  of  the  life  which  Jack 
and  his  people  led  far  away  to  the  south  and  great 
was  her  curiosity  concerning  it.  She  told  her- 
self that  it  was  merely  the  strangeness  of  the  life 
that  roused  her  interest.  For  her  it  could  have  no 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  131 

personal  interest.  That  she  could  ever  dwell  with 
the  enemies  of  her  people  was  unthinkable.  But — 
well,  it  was  pleasant  to  hear  of  so  many  things 
that  had  been  far  beyond  her  ken.  Jack,  on  the 
other  hand,  found  unexpected  delight  in  enlighten- 
ing the  virgin  field  of  her  mind.  Again  and  again 
he  laughed  at  her  ignorance,  but  his  laughter  was 
not  of  the  kind  that  hurts.  Long  before  the  third 
day  had  begun,  Jack  had  decided  that  this  Indian- 
bred  boy  was  the  most  interesting  he  had  ever 
known,  and  Alagwa  had  unconsciously  decided  that 
Jack  was  very  different  from  the  others  of  his  race. 
"  If  all  white  men  were  like  him,"  she  thought, 
"  there  would  be  no  enmity  between  his  people  and 
mine."  The  bond  of  sympathy  between  the  two  was 
growing  very  strong. 

"  We'll  be  at  Fort  Wayne  soon,  Bob,  I  guess," 
Jack  was  saying,  as  they  neared  the  edge  of  the 
forest.  "  I  reckon  it's  mean  for  me  to  wish  it,  but 
I  do  hope  we  won't  find  your  friends  there.  I  didn't 
know  how  much  I  needed  a  jolly  little  chum." 

Alagwa  caught  her  breath.  Almost  she  had  for- 
gotten Fort  Wayne.  Grimly  her  forgotten  mission 
rose  before  her.  When  she  reached  the  fort — 
Hastily  she  shook  her  head.  "  The  white  chief  will 
find  no  friends  of  mine,"  she  declared,  soberly.  **  I 
have  no  friends." 

"  Oh !  You  must  have  friends  somewhere,  you  know, 
and  I've  got  to  try  to  find  them.    I  must  do  my  best 


132  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

to  let  them  know  you're  alive.  You  may  have  a 
father  and  mother,  still  grieving  for  you.  But  if 
I  can't  find  them " 

"  And  if  you  can  not  find  them?  "  The  girl  was 
talking  desperately,  saying  anything  to  prevent 
herself  from  thinking  of  what  awaited  her. 

"  Then  I  reckon  I'll  have  to  take  you  back  to 
Alabama  with  me  when  I  go — though  the  Lord 
knows  when  that'll  be.  You'll  love  Alabama,  though 
it's  mighty  different  from  this  Ohio  country.  Ala- 
bama is  Shawnee — no,  it's  Creek — for  *  here-we- 
rest ! '  The  Creeks  called  it  that  because  it  is  so 
pleasant.  You'll  come  with  me,  won't  you,  Bob?  " 

"  I?  "  Alagwa  drew  herself  up.  For  the  moment 
she  was  once  more  the  Shawnee  maiden.  "  Am  I 
a  dog  to  live  among  those  who  hate  me  ?  " 

"  Hate  you !  "  Jack  stared.  "  Good  Lord  !  What 
are  you  talking  about  ?  Why !  Dad  would  go  crazy 
over  you.  He's  the  best  old  dad  that  ever  lived. 
Cato's  already  deserted  me  for  you.  He's  your 
sworn  slave.  He  thinks  you're  the  spirit  and  image 
of  the  Telfair  family.  By  the  way,  he  told  me  yes- 
terday that  you  sure  8id  have  the  Telfair  nose. 
You  may  not  think  that's  a  compliment,  but  Cato 
meant  it  for  one.  As  for  the  neighbors " 

Jack  stopped  short.  He  had  just  remembered 
that  for  several  days  he  had  failed  to  grieve  over 
Sally  Habersham  and  that  he  had  quite  forgotten 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  133 

that  his  life  was  blighted.  An  expression  of  gloom 
came  over  his  features. 

Alagwa  noticed  it,  but  she  said  nothing.  She  had 
been  taught  not  to  force  her  chatter  on  a  warrior, 
and  her  experience  with  white  men  had  been  too  brief 
to  change  the  ingrained  custom  of  years.  Besides, 
she  was  startled  by  Cato's  remark.  Woman-like, 
she  had  already  discovered  the  strong  family  like- 
ness she  bore  to  Jack;  and  it  had  pleased  rather 
than  troubled  her.  But  Cato's  perception  of  it 
made  her  anxious.  If  he  noticed  it,  others  might  do 
so  and  might  grow  suspicious ;  her  identity  might 
be  detected,  and  if  it  was,  her  mission  would  fail. 

Before  Jack  could  notice  her  abstraction  the 
break  in  the  forest  came.  The  trees  stopped  short, 
leaning  westward  as  if  dragged  toward  the  sunset 
by  some  mighty  impulse,  only  to  be  held  back  by  one 
yet  mightier.  To  north  and  to  south  the  line  of  the 
forest  ran  interminably  away,  till  it  blended  with 
the  long  grasses  that  swelled  to  meet  it. 

In  front  stretched  the  prairie,  mile  after  mile  of 
billowing  green,  flower-studded,  cobweb-sheeted, 
ablaze  with  the  painted  wings  of  butterflies.  Over 
it  the  breeze  blew  softly,  laden  with  whispers,  heavy 
with  the  scent  of  sun-dried  grass. 

With  a  gasp  both  Jack  and  Alagwa  reined  in. 
Then  with  wild  whoops  of  delight  they  shook  their 
reins  and  drove  their  heels  into  their  horses'  sides 


134  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

and  darted  forward,  out  from  behind  the  wagon, 
over  the  fresh  springy  turf. 

As  they  passed,  Williams,  seated  by  Cato  on  the 
box,  leaned  forward  and  hailed  them.  "  We're 
near  Fort  Wayne,"  he  called.  "  An*  there's  white 
men  there — none  of  your  d — d  Indian  lovers. 
We'll  see  what  they've  got  to  say  about  your  high- 
handed ways.  And  " — venomously — "  we'll  see 
what  they've  got  to  say  about  that  half-breed  boy, 
too." 

Jack  did  not  answer.  He  scarcely  heard.  All 
his  thoughts  were  on  the  mighty  plain  that  stretched 
before  him.  To  him,  as  to  Alagwa,  the  prairie  was  a 
revelation.  All  her  life  the  girl  had  lived  amid 
forests ;  all  her  life  her  view  had  been  circumscribed 
by  the  boles  of  massive  trees.  Never  had  she 
dreamed  of  the  vast  sweep  of  the  grassy  plains. 
Jack's  experience  was  wider,  but  even  he  had  never 
seen  the  prairies.  Like  two  children  they  shouted 
from  very  rapture.  Along  the  flat  they  raced,  in- 
toxicated with  the  whistle  of  the  wind,  the  smell  of 
the  grass,  and  the  thunderous  drumming  of  their 
horses'  hoofs.  Mile  after  mile  they  galloped,  front- 
ing the  sunset,  fleeing  before  their  own  enormously 
lengthening  shadows.  When  at  last  they  dragged 
their  steeds  to  a  walk,  Jack  had  quite  forgotten  his 
gloomy  pose  and  was  talking  and  Inughing  as  ex- 
citedly as  if  he  were  still  the  schoolboy  he  had  been 
so  short  a  time  before 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  135 

Then  suddenly  he  reined  in  and  rose  in  his  stir- 
rups. The  road,  curving  to  the  north  around  a 
great  grassy  swell,  had  come  out!  upon  a  level  at  the 
far  edge  of  which  rose  a  great  quadrilateral,  with 
frowning  blockhouses  at  its  alternate  corners. 
Under  its  protecting  walls  smaller  buildings  showed 
where  the  pioneers  of  a  dauntless  race  were  laying 
deep  the  foundations  of  a  mighty  state. 

Smilingly  he  turned  to  Alagwa.  "  There's  our 
destination !  We'll  stay  there  to-night  and  to-mor- 
row I'll  start  back.  You'll  be  too  tired  to  go,  of 
course." 

Startled,  the  girl  looked  up.  But  her  face  cleared 
as  she  saw  that  Jack  was  smiling  and  guessed  that 
he  was  mocking  her. 

Rapidly  the  quadrilateral  swelled  out  of  the  plain. 
A  great  gate,  midway  of  its  southern  side,  stood  in- 
vitingly open  and  toward  this  the  travellers  directed 
their  way.  A  sentry  stared  at  them  curiously  as 
they  passed  in  but  did  not  challenge  or  stop  them. 

Just  inside  the  gate  Jack  reined  in,  looking  for  a 
moment  at  the  unfamiliar  scene.  On  the  parade 
ground  that  occupied  the  square  interior  of  the  fort 
a  company  of  forty  soldiers  was  drilling  under  com- 
mand of  a  heavy  man,  rotund  and  stout.  At  the 
left,  in  the  shade  of  the  walls,  stood  a  group  of  men 
and  boys,  some  of  them  white  but  most  of  them 
Indian. 

Some  one  called  out  and  the  members  of  the  group 


136  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

turned  from  watching  the  drill  and  stared  at  the 
newcomers.  The  captain  of  the  company,  too,  was 
plainly  curious,  for  he  turned  his  men  over  to  a  sub- 
officer  and  crossed  to  join  the  rest.  He  bore  himself 
with  an  air  of  authority  that  bespoke  him  the  com- 
mander of  the  fort. 

Jack  rode  up  to  him  and  reined  in,  sweeping  off 
his  hat  with  a  boyish  flourish.  "  Good  evening, 
sir !  "  he  cried.  "  Have  I  the  honor  of  addressing 
Captain  Rhea?  " 

The  officer  shook  his  head.  His  face  was  flushed 
and  the  veins  on  his  forehead  were  swollen.  Ob- 
viously he  had  been  drinking  heavily.  "  Captain 
Rhea  is  ill,"  he  grunted.  "  I'm  Lieutenant  Hibbs, 
in  command.  Who  are  you  ?  " 

Jack  hesitated.  He  had  not  expected  to  find  a 
drunken  man  in  charge  of  so  important  a  post  as 
Fort  Wayne.  Heavy  drinking  was  not  rare  in  those 
days ;  rum  was  on  every  man's  table  and  "  Brown 
Betty  "  was  drunk  almost  as  freely  by  both  sexes 
and  all  ages  as  coffee  is  to-day.  The  code  of  the 
day,  however,  condemned  men  in  responsible  posi- 
tions for  drinking  more  than  they  could  carry 
decently. 

As  Jack  hesitated  the  officer  grew  angry.  His 
flushed  face  grew  redder.  "  Speak  up !  "  he  growled. 
"  Who  are  you  and  what  do  you  want  ?  " 

Jack  could  hesitate  no  longer.  Lightly  he  leaped 
from  his  saddle,  looping  the  bridle  over  his  arm  and 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  137 

came  forward.  "  I'm  glad  to  meet  you,  Mr.  Hibbs," 
he  said.  "  I  am  Mr.  Telfair,  of  Alabama,  up  here 
on  personal  business.  I  turned  aside  at  Girty's 
Town  to  escort  a  wagon-load  of  ammunition  that 
General  Hull  had  sent  you " 

"  Ammunition  !  "  The  officer's  manner  changed. 
He  drew  his  breath  with  a  long  sobbing  gasp. 
"  Ammunition.  We  need  it  bad  enough.  Thank 
God  you've  come.  General  Hull  sent  you  with  it  ?  " 

"  Not  exactly.  He  sent  it  by  two  wagoners,  but 
one  of  them  " — Jack  dropped  his  voice — "  mur- 
dered an  Indian  and  I  had  to  arrest  him  and  take 
charge  of  the  wagon.  I " 

"  Murdered  an  Indian !  Arrest  him !  Good 
God ! "  Mr.  Hibbs  was  staring  at  the  wagon, 
which  was  just  appearing  through  the  gates. 
"Who's  that?"  he  demanded.  "Damnation!  It's 
Williams!  You  don't  mean  you've  arrested  Wil- 
liams ! "  He  threw  up  his  hand.  "  Hey !  Wil- 
liams !  "  he  shouted.  "  Come  here !  " 

Williams  jumped  from  the  box  and  came  forward. 

Jack  did  not  wait.  "  I  had  to  arrest  him,"  he 
declared.  "  I'll  be  only  too  glad  to  explain  all  the 
circumstances  if  I  can  see  you  privately."  He  cast 
a  glance  around  the  listening  throng.  "  It  seems 

hardly  wise  to  speak  too  freely  here "  He 

stopped,  for  Mr.  Hibbs  had  brushed  by  him  and  had 
gone  forward  to  meet  the  wagoner. 


138  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

"Hello!  Williams!"  he  hiccoughed.  "You 
back?  Where's  Wolf  ?" 

The  company  that  had  been  drilling  had  been 
dismissed  and  the  men  came  running  up.  Plainly 
they  were  anxious  to  learn  what  news  the  newcomers 
might  have  brought.  Most  of  them  waved  their 
hands  to  Williams  as  they  drew  near,  though  they 
did  not  venture  to  break  in  on  his  talk  with  their 
officer. 

Williams  paid  little  attention  to  them.  He  was 
choking  with  anger.  "  Wolf's  dead,"  he  rasped. 
"  Killed  by  a  dog  of  a  Shawnee.  I  guess  you'd 
better  ask  that  young  squirt  about  it."  He  jerked 
his  head  toward  Jack.  "  He's  running  this  ex- 
pedition." 

Mr.  Hibbs's  brow  darkened.  He  glanced  at  Jack 
doubtfully.  "  Did  General  Hull  put  him  in  charge 
of  the  ammunition?  "  he  asked. 

"Ammunition?  What  ammunition?"  Williams 
snarled  scornfully. 

"  The  ammunition  you  brought,  of  course." 

"  I  ain't  brought  no  ammunition.  Those  durned 
Injun  agents  are  always  fussing  about  honest 
traders,  and  I  got  by  Colonel  Johnson's  deputy  at 
Piqua  by  saying  that  I  had  ammunition.  But  I 
ain't  got  a  bit.  I  ain't  got  nothing  but  whiskey  and 
trade  goods.  This  young  know-it-all,  he  hears  what 
I  says  to  the  agent,  and  he  takes  it  on  himself  to 
escort  the  ammunition  and  I  lets  him  do  it." 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  139 

A  roar  of  laughter  went  up  from  the  crowd. 
Aristocrats  were  not  popular  on  the  frontier  and 
Jack  was  plainly  an  aristocrat.  Besides,  Williams 
was  a  friend  and  the  crowd  was  very  willing  to  fol- 
low his  lead. 

Jack  flushed  hotly  as  he  realized  how  completely 
he  had  been  humbugged.  He  tried  to  speak,  but  his 
voice  was  drowned  by  jeers. 

Mr.  Hibbs,  however,  neither  laughed  nor  jeered. 
The  failure  to  get  ammunition  seemed  to  strike  him 
hard.  Furiously  he  swung  round  on  Jack. 

But  before  he  could  speak  Williams  thrust  in. 
"  I  got  those  things  you  wanted,  lieutenant,"  he 
said.  "  But  he's  taken  charge  of  'em."  He  jerked 
his  thumb  toward  Jack.  **  Maybe  he'll  give  'em 
to  you  if  you  go  down  on  your  knees  and  ask  for 
'em  pretty." 

Mr.  Hibbs  found  his  voice.  "  What  the  devil  does 
this  mean?"  he  demanded.  "You,  sir,  I  mean." 
He  glared  at  Jack.  "  I'm  talking  to  you.  What 
have  you  got  to  do  with  this  thing,  anyway  ?  " 

Jack  refused  to  be  stampeded.  He  was  horribly 
abashed  by  the  fiasco  of  the  ammunition,  and  he 
saw  that  no  explanation  that  he  could  make  was 
likely  to  be  well  received.  "  I'd  rather  wait  and  go 
into  things  privately,  lieutenant,"  he  demurred. 

"Privately!  H — 1!  You  go  ahead  and  be  d — 
quick  about  it !  " 

Before  Jack  could  speak  a  tall,  thin  man,  who 


140  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

had  been  watching  the  scene  with  growing  disgust, 
stepped  forward  hurriedly.  "  I  think  the  young 
man  is  right,  Mr.  Hibbs,"  he  said.  "  It  seems  to  me 
that  it  would  be  much  better  to  talk  in  private." 
He  turned  to  Jack.  "  I  am  Major  Stickney,  the 
Indian  agent  here,  Mr.  Telfair,"  he  said. 

Mr.  Hibbs  gave  him  no  time  to  say  more. 
Furiously  he  turned  upon  him.  "  It  seems  best  to 
you,  does  it,"  he  yelled.  "  Yes,  I  reckon  it  is  just  the 
sort  of  thing  that  would  seem  best  to  a  greenhorn 
like  you.  But  you  might  as  well  understand  here 
and  now,  that  I'm  in  command  here  and  that  you 
nor  anybody  else  can  tell  me  what  to  do."  He 
turned  to  Jack.  "  Go  on,"  he  roared. 

Further  objection  was  evidently  useless.  Jack 
spoke  out.  "  I  charge  this  man,"  he  said,  pointing 
to  Williams,  "  with  the  deliberate  and  uncalled-for 
murder  of  a  friendly  Shawnee  chief,  at  the  moment 
that  he  was  making  the  peace  sign.  This  man  shot 
him  down  without  any  provocation  and  without  any 
warning.  After  he  had  shot  him  the  Indian  sprang 
at  him  and  at  his  companion,  a  man  named  Wolf, 
tore  Wolf's  gun  from  him,  and  brained  him  with  it. 
Then  he  sprang  at  Williams,  who  struck  him  down 
with  his  hatchet  and  then  scalped  him." 

"  Good !  Good !  Bully  for  you,  Williams."  A 
roar  of  applause  rose  from  the  soldiers.  Mr.  Hibbs 
did  not  check  it. 

Jack   hurried   on.      "  You   understand,    sir,"   he 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  141 

said,  "  what  terrible  consequences  this  might  have 
led  to  at  this  particular  time.  Tecumseh  has  al- 
ready led  several  hundred  Shawnees  north  to  join 
the  British,  and  the  murder  of  a  friendly  chief,  if  it 
had  become  known  in  its  true  aspect,  might  have 
roused  the  remainder  of  the  tribe  and  turned  ten 
thousand  warriors  against  the  white  settlements.  I 
did  the  only  thing  I  could  to  prevent  it.  I  placed 
this  man  under  arrest  and  took  him  to  Girty's 
Town,  where  I  hoped  to  turn  him  over  to  Colonel 
Johnson.  Colonel  Johnson  was  not  there,  however, 
and  so  I  gave  out  that  the  Indian  had  been  killed 
by  Wolf  in  a  personal  quarrel.  I  left  a  note  for 
Colonel  Johnson  explaining  the  true  circumstances 
of  the  case.  Then,  knowing  your  urgent  need  for 
ammunition  and  thinking  this  wagon  was  loaded  with 
it,  I  came  on  here  as  quickly  as  I  could,  bringing  this 
man  as  a  prisoner  to  be  dealt  with  as  you  might 
think  fit." 

Mr.  Hibbs  was  rocking  on  his  'feet.  Scarcely  did 
he  wait  for  Jack  to  finish.  "  Shot  an  Injun,  did 
he  ?  "  he  burst  out.  "  Well,  it's  a  d —  good  thing. 
I  wish  he'd  shot  a  dozen  of  the  scurvy  brutes.  And 
you're  complaining  of  him,  are  you?  How  about 
yourself?  What  were  you  doing  while  the  fight  was 
going  on  ?  "  He  swung  round  on  Williams.  "  What 
was  he  doing,  Williams?  "  he  asked. 

The  wagoner  laughed  scornfully.  "  He  warn't 
doing  nothing,"  he  sneered.  "  He  sat  on  his  horse 


142  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

and  watched  the  Injun  kill  Wolf  without  raisin'  a 
hand  to  stop  him.  But  he  was  mighty  forward  in 
stopping  me  when  I  started  to  wipe  out  that  half- 
breed  boy  yonder." 

A  snarl  rose  from  the  crowding  men.  But  the 
reference  to  Alagwa  served  momentarily  to  divert 
their  attention. 

"  That  boy  was  with  the  Injun,"  went  on  Wil- 
liams ;  "  and  he  come  at  Wolf  with  a  knife.  Wolf 
shot  him  through  the  leg  and  he  fell,  and  after  I'd 
done  for  the  Injun  I  started  after  the  cub.  But  this 
here  sprig  run  me  down  with  his  horse  an'  took  my 
gun  away  before  I  could  get  up." 

Again  the  crowd  snarled.  "  Duck  him !  Flog 
him !  Hang  him !  "  it  cried.  The  calls  were  low  and 
tentative,  but  they  were  gaining  volume. 

Mr.  Hibbs  made  no  effort  to  check  them  or  to 
keep  his  men  in  hand.  Rather  he  urged  them  on. 
"Well!  sir!"  he  demanded,  truculently.  "What 
have  you  got  to  say  ?  " 

Jack's  lips  whitened.  He  was  little  more  than  a 
lad,  and  the  incredible  attitude  of  this  officer  of  the 
United  States  army,  from  whom  he  had  the  right  to 
expect  support,  confounded  him.  He  had  yet  to 
learn,  as  the  country  had  yet  to  learn,  that  the 
United  States  army  was  then  officered  by  many  men 
who  had  gotten  their  positions  by  political  influence 
and  were  totally  unfitted  for  their  work — men  who 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  143 

were  to  bring  disgrace  and  dishonor  on  the  Ameri- 
can flag. 

Doggedly,  Jack  tried  to  protest.  "  The  boy  is 
white,  lieutenant,"  he  interrupted.  "  You've  only 
to  look  at  him  to  see  that.  For  the  rest,  this  man 
is  perverting  the  facts.  He  committed  a  wanton 
murder,  and  if  it  makes  the  Indians  rise " 

"  Let  'em  rise  and  be  d — d !  Who  cares  whether 
they  rise  or  not  ?  "  Mr.  Hibbs  hesitated  a  moment 
and  then  went  on.  "  We've  just  got  news  from 
General  Hull.  He's  crossed  into  Canada  and  scat- 
tered the  redcoats  and  the  red  devils.  We'll  have 
all  Canada  in  a  month.  And  if  any  of  the  Injuns 
anywhere  try  to  make  trouble  we'll  shoot  'em.  And 
if  any  white-livered  curs  from  the  east  try  to  make 
trouble  we'll  shoot  them,  too.  Wolf  was  a  d — 
sight  better  man  than  you'll  ever  be." 

Jack  threw  his  head  back  and  his  jaw  stiffened. 
The  insults  that  had  been  heaped  upon  him  made  his 
blood  boil.  But  he  remembered  that  Mr.  Hibbs  was 
an  officer  in  the  army  of  his  country  and,  as  such, 
entitled  to  respect. 

"  Sir !  "  he  said,  almost  gently.  "  I  will  not  enter 
into  comparisons  or  arguments.  I  have  done  what 
I  thought  was  my  duty.  I  am  an  American  citizen 
and  it  is  surely  my  duty,  as  it  is  yours,  sir,  to  try 
to  prevent  friends  from  turning  into  foes " 

"  My  duty ! "  Mr.  Hibbs  broke  in  with  a  roar. 
"  You'll  teach  me  my  duty,  will  you  ?  By  God ! 


144  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

We'll  see."  He  swung  round.  "  Officer  of  the 
guard !  "  he  trumpeted. 

"  Sir ! "    An  officer  stepped  forward. 

"  Call  two  men  and  take  this  young  cub  to  the 
calaboose  and  flog  him  well.  We'll  teach  him  to 
meddle  in  matters  that  don't  concern  him." 

Flogging  was  common  in  those  days.  Privates  in 
the  army  were  flogged  for  all  sorts  of  misdeeds. 

The  crowd  surged  forward.  Beyond  question  its 
sympathies  were  with  Hibbs  and  against  Jack.  The 
note  of  savagery  in  its  snarl  would  have  frightened 
most  men. 

It  did  not  frighten  Jack.  His  blue  eyes  gleamed 
with  an  anger  that  did  not  blaze — a  frosty  anger 
that  froze  those  on  whom  it  fell. 

"  Just  a  moment,"  he  cried.  "  The  first  man  that 
lays  hand  on  me  dies." 

The  crowd  hesitated,  clutching  at  pistols  and 
knives.  The  moment  was  freighted  with  death. 

Then,  abruptly,  some  one  pushed  a  rifle — Wil- 
liams's  rifle — into  Jack's  hands  and  he  heard 
Alagwa's  voice  in  his  ear.  "  White  chief  kill !  "  she 
gritted.  "  Sing  death  song.  I  die  with  him." 

On  the  other  side  Cato  pressed  forward.  "  I'se 
here,  Mars'  Jack,"  he  quavered.  "  Cato's  here." 


CHAPTER  XI 

FOR  a  moment  the  crowd  hung  in  the  balance. 
Then  Jack  laughed.    The  ridiculous  side  of 
the  quarrel  had  struck  him.     He  turned  to 
Alagwa.     "  Thank  you,  Bob,  old  chap,"  he  said, 
gratefully.     "And  you,  too,  Cato.     I  won't  for- 
get.   But  I  reckon  we  won't  have  to  kill  anybody." 

Still  holding  the  rifle,  he  turned  back  to  the 
throng.  "  Here's  your  rifle,  Williams,"  he  said, 
tossing  the  gun  indifferently  over.  "  Come,  old 
man,"  he  called  to  Alagwa.  "  Come,  Cato  1 "  With- 
out a  backward  glance  he  strode  away. 

Silence  almost  complete  followed  his  departure. 
Mr.  Hibbs  made  no  move  to  renew  his  order;  he 
stood  still  and  watched  the  party  walk  away. 
Plainly  he  was  beginning  to  realize  that  he  had  gone 
too  far. 

Stickney,  however,  with  an  impatient  exclama- 
tion, separated  himself  from  the  others  and  hurried 
after  Jack.  "  You  did  exactly  right,  Mr.  Telfair," 
he  said,  as  he  came  up,  "  and  I'm  sorry  you  should 
have  been  so  outrageously  treated.  Captain  Rhea 
isn't  a  bad  sort,  but  he  is  very  ill  and  Mr.  Hibbs 
is  in  his  place  and  you  see  what  sort  of  a  man  he  is. 
The  fiasco  about  the  ammunition  made  it  worse.  We 
are  practically  out  of  it." 

10  145 


146  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

Jack  nodded  and  laughed  a  little  shamefacedly. 
"  I  reckon  it  serves  me  right,"  he  said.  "  I  got  the 
idea  that  I  was  serving  the  country  and  I  reckon  I 
made  a  fool  of  myself.  The  worst  of  it  is,  I  left  some 
very  important  matters  of  my  own.  However, 
there's  no  use  crying  over  spilled  milk.  Since  Gen- 
eral Hull  has  been  so  successful " 

"  But  has  he?  "  Mr.  Stickney  broke  in.  "  I  hope 
he  has.  He  really  has  crossed  into  Canada.  We 
know  that  much.  But  we  don't  know  any  more. 
Hibbs  invented  the  rest  in  order  to  counteract  the 
effect  of  his  slip  in  saying  that  we  are  short  of 
ammunition.  You  see,  there  is  some  little  excuse 
for  his  behavior,  outrageous  as  it  was." 

Jack  nodded.  "  I  see !"  he  acceded.  "Well!  It 
really  doesn't  matter.  I  intended  to  start  back  to 
Piqua  tomorrow  morning,  anyway." 

"  Oh !  We  can't  let  you  go  that  quickly.  I  want 
to  hear  more  about  that  murder.  I  must  send  a 
report  about  it  to  Washington.  You'll  give  me 
the  details?" 

"With  pleasure." 

Major  Stickney  hesitated  and  glanced  round. 
"  The  factory  building  is  outside  the  fort,"  he  said, 
"  and  I'd  be  delighted  to  have  you  stay  there  with 
me,  if  it  wasn't  crowded  to  the  doors.  My  assistant, 
Captain  Wells,  with  his  wife  and  their  children  com- 
pletely fill  it.  But  there's  a  sort  of  hotel  here  kept 
by  a  French  trader,  one  Peter  Bondie,  and  he  can 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  147 

put  you  up  for  the  night.  That  will  give  us  time 
for  a  talk." 

Jack  nodded.  "  Good !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  I'll  be 
only  too  glad  to  stay,  especially  as  I  want  to  consult 
you  about  this  youngster."  He  turned  toward 
Alagwa.  "  Come  here,  Bob,"  he  called.  **  I  want 
you  to  meet  Major  Stickney." 

Alagwa  was  lagging  behind  the  rest.  Her  brain 
was  tingling  with  the  information  that  had  just 
come  to  her  ears.  The  fort — the  great  bulwark  of 
all  northwest  Indiana  and  Ohio — was  almost  out  of 
ammunition.  A  small  force  of  her  Shawnees,  aided 
by  a  few  redcoats,  if  well  armed,  might  take  it 
easily.  If  she  could  only  send  them  information! 
Ah !  that  would  be  a  triumph  greater  far  than  the 
capture  of  many  wagons — even  of  wagons  actually 
laden  with  ammunition. 

She  would  seek  the  runner  at  once.  She  would 
not  hesitate  again  as  she  had  hesitated  on  that  un- 
forgotten  night.  The  men  in  the  fort  were  the  sort 
of  Americans  she  hated.  More,  they  had  dared  to 
threaten  the  young  white  chief.  She  had  meant 
what  she  said  when  she  offered  to  fight  them  to  the 
death.  Gladly  she  would  kill  them  all,  all ! 

Jack  threw  his  arm  about  her  shoulders  and  drew 
her  to  his  side.  "  This  is  the  boy  that  Wolf  shot," 
he  explained.  "  I  call  him  Bob,  because  he  doesn't 
know  his  white  name,  and  I  want  him  to  forget  he 


148  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

was  ever  an  Indian.  He  and  I  have  got  to  be  great 
chums  already." 

Stickney  smiled.  "  So  it  seems,"  he  commented, 
eyeing  Alagwa  with  approval.  "  He  certainly  seems 
to  be  pretty  clear  grit.  He  stood  behind  you  just 
now  like  a  man,  even  if  he  isn't  knee  high  to  a  grass- 
hopper." 

Jack  glanced  at  Alagwa  affectionately.  "  He's  a 
good  one,  all  right,"  he  declared.  "  Cato  swears  he's 
quality  and  Cato's  a  mighty  good  judge.  I  can 
see  it  myself,  for  that  matter.  He  must  come  from 
good  people  and  we've  got  to  find  them.  And  he's 
pure  grit.  Williams  told  the  truth  about  his  part 
in  the  fight.  That's  another  thing  I'll  tell  you  about 
tonight.  WTiere  did  you  say  this  Peter  Bondie  was 
to  be  found?  "  Jack  looked  about  him  inquiringly. 

The  sun  was  dropping  lower  and  lower.  Its  rays 
traced  fiery  furrows  across  the  bending  grass  of 
the  prairie  and  filled  the  air  with  golden  lights. 
Against  it  the  crest  of  the  fortress  stood  black, 
golden  rimmed  at  the  top.  Afar,  the  broad  river 
gleamed  silver  bright  beneath  the  darkening  sky. 

Stickney  pointed  ahead.  "  Yonder's  his  store 
and  hotel,  ahead  there  by  the  river.  His  wife  is  a 
Miami  Indian,  but  she  attends  to  the  store  and  you 
probably  won't  see  her  at  all.  His  sister,  Madame 
Fantine  Loire,  a  widow,  manages  the  hotel.  She's  a 
born  cook  and  she'll  give  you  meals  that  you'll 
remember  after  you  are  dead.  I'm  afraid  she  can't 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  149 

give  you  a  room.  Her  guests  just  spread  their 
blanket  rolls  before  the  fire  in  the  bar  room  and 
sleep  there.  They  seem  to  find  it  very  comfortable." 

Jack  nodded.  "That'll  be  all  right,"  he  an- 
swered, absently.  He  was  peering  westward,  be- 
neath his  shading  hand.  "  I  think  I  see  somebody 
I  know — Yes  !  By  George !  I  do !  It's  Tom  Rogers. 
I  reckon  he's  looking  for  me." 

Rogers  it  was !  He  was  approaching  at  a  dog- 
trot from  the  direction  of  the  fort.  When  he  saw 
that  Jack  had  seen  him  he  slackened  his  pace. 

"  Talk !  Talk !  Talk !  "  he  began,  when  he  came 
up.  "  These  people  here  sure  do  knock  the  per- 
simmons for  talk.  Back  in  the  fort  they're  buz- 
zing like  a  hive  of  bees.  They  talk  so  much  I 
couldn't  hardly  find  out  what  had  happened.  And 
what's  the  use  of  it?  There  ain't  none.  Go  ahead 
and  do  things  is  my  motto.  Wfhen  you  get  to  talkin' 
there's  no  tellin'  where  you'll  come  out.  Anybody 
might  ha'  knowed  it  was  plumb  foolish  to  try  to 
talk  to  that  man  Hibbs.  Everybody  in  this  country 
knows  him.  You  can't  do  nothing  with  him  unless 
you  smash  him  over  the  head.  But  I  reckon  you 
found  that  out.  They  tell  me  you  pulled  a  pistol  on 
him.  That's  the  right  thing  to  do.  Powder  talks 
and " 

Jack  broke  in.  He  had  learned  by  experience  that 
to  break  in  was  the  only  way  to  get  to  speak  at  all 
when  Rogers  held  the  floor.  "  Did  you  bring  me 


150  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

a  letter  from  Colonel  Johnson?  "  he  asked.  "  Has 
he  found  the  girl?  " 

"  Not  yet.  She's  plumb  vanished.  But  I  brung 
you  a  letter  from  the  Colonel."  The  old  man  felt  in 
his  hunting  shirt  and  drew  out  a  packet,  which  he 
handed  to  Jack.  "  Colonel  Johnson  says  to  me,  says 
he " 

Again  Jack  interrupted.  "  We're  going  to  Peter 
Bondie's  to  spend  the  night,"  he  said.  "  Come  along 
with  us." 

The  old  hunter's  face  lit  up.  "  Say ! "  he  ex- 
claimed. "  You  ain't  never  been  here  before,  have 
you  ?  Well,  you  got  a  treat  comin' !  Just  wait  till 
you  see  Madame  Fantine  and  eat  some  of  her  cook- 
ing. An'  she's  a  mighty  fine  woman  besides.  Jest 
tell  her  I'll  be  along  later.  First  I  reckon  I'd  better 
go  back  to  the  fort.  I've  got  some  friends  there 
and  maybe  I  can  smooth  things  down  for  you  some. 
There  ain't  no  use  in  makin'  enemies.  The  boys 
are  pretty  sore  at  you  just  now.  But  I  c'n  smooth 
'em  down  all  right  if  I  can  only  get  a  chance  to  put 
a  word  in  edgeways.  The  trouble  is  that  people 
talk  so  blame  much " 

*'  All  right.  Come  to  the  inn  when  you  get  ready. 
You'll  find  us  there." 

Jack  turned  back  to  Stickney.  As  he  did  so  he 
tore  open  his  letter  and  glanced  over  its  contents. 
It  was  from  Colonel  Johnson,  acknowledging  the 
receipt  of  his  letter,  commending  his  action  in  the 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  151 

matter  of  Wilwiloway's  murder,  and  promising  to 
do  all  he  could  to  find  the  girl  of  whom  Jack  was 
in  search.  "  I  know  her  well,"  ended  the  colonel, 
"  and  I  shall  be  glad  to  look  for  her.  She  was  here 
recently,  but  she  has  disappeared  and  I  rather  think 
she  may  have  gone  north  witK  Tecumseh.  Your 
best  chance  of  finding  her  would,  probably  be  to  go 
down  the  Maumee  and  join  General  Hull  at  Detroit. 
As  for  Captain  Brito  Telfair,  he  has  disappeared 
and  has  probably  gone  back  to  Canada." 

Jack  handed  the  letter  to  Major  Stickney. 
"  This  touches  on  the  main  object  of  my  visit  to 
Ohio,  Major,"  he  said,  when  the  latter  had  read  it. 
"  The  girl  of  whom  Colonel  Johnson  speaks  is  the 
daughter  of  my  kinsman,  Delaroche  Telfair,  who 
came  to  Ohio  from  France  in  1790  and  settled  at 
Gallipolis.  Later,  he  seems  to  have  lived  with  the 
Shawnees,  probably  as  a  trader,  and  when  he  died 
he  left  his  daughter  in  Tecumseh's  care."  Jack 
went  on,  explaining  the  circumstances  that  made  it 
necessary  for  him  to  find  the  girl  without  delay. 
"  If  you  can  help  me  any,  Major,"  he  finished,  "  I'll 
be  grateful." 

"  I'll  be  delighted.  But  I'm  afraid  I  can't  do 
much.  I'm  a  greenhorn  up  here,  you  know.  But 
I'll  ask  Captain  Wells,  my  assistant.  He's  been 
in  these  parts  all  his  life.  He  was  captured  by  the 
Miamis  forty  years  ago  and  grew  up  with  them  and 
married  a  Miami  woman.  He'll  know  if  anyone 


152  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

does — No!  By  George!" — Major  Stickney  was 
growing  excited — "  I  forgot.  Peter  Bondie  will 
know  more  than  Wells.  He  and  his  sister  were  in 
the  party  of  Frenchmen  that  settled  Gallipolis  in 
1790.  They  were  recruited  in  Paris  and  very  likely 
they  came  over  in  the  ship  with  your  relation.  Of 
course  neither  of  them  is  likely  to  know  anything 
about  the  girl,  but  it's  just  possible  that  they  may. 
Anyway,  you'll  want  to  talk  to  them.  Here's  their 
place." 

Major  Stickney  pointed  to  a  log  building,  larger 
than  most  of  its  neighbors,  that  stood  not  far  from 
the  bank  of  the  river.  From  the  crowd  of  Indians 
and  the  piles  of  miscellaneous  goods  at  one  off  its 
entrances  it  seemed  to  be  as  much  store  as  dwelling. 

Jack  stepped  forward  eagerly.  t<r  Talk  to 
them?  "  he  echoed.  "  I  should  think  I  would!  This 
is  great  luck."  Jack  knew  that  many  of  the  French 
settlers  of  Gallipolis  had  quit  their  first  homes  on 
the  banks  of  the  Ohio  river  and  had  scattered 
through  the  northwest,  but  he  had  not  expected  to 
find  two  of  them  at  Fort  Wayne.  Perhaps  his 
coming  there  would  prove  to  be  less  of  a  blunder 
than  he  had  thought  a  few  moments  before.  So 
eager  was  he  to  see  them  that  for  the  moment  he 
forgot  Alagwa, 

The  girl  was  glad  to  be  forgotten.  Her  heart  was 
throbbing  painfully.  For  a  moment  the  necessity  of 
sending  word  to  Tecumseh  about  the  ammunition 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  153 

had  been  thrust  into  the  background.  To  most  per- 
sons the  thought  of  finding  of  people  who  had  known 
their  father  would  have  caused  little  emotion.  To 
Alagwa,  however,  it  came  as  a  shock,  the  more  so 
from  its  unexpectedness.  Her  memories  of  her 
father  were  very  few,  but  she  had  secretly  cherished 
them,  grieving  over  their  incompleteness.  Fear  of 
betraying  her  identity  had  prevented  her  from 
questioning  Jack  too  closely  about  him ;  and,  indeed, 
Jack  was  almost  as  ignorant  as  she  concerning  the 
things  she  wished  to  know.  But  here  were  a  man 
and  a  woman,  who  had  crossed  the  ocean  with  him 
when  he  was  young  and  vigorous.  Surely  they 
knew  him  well !  Perhaps  they  had  known  her  mother, 
whom  she  remembered  not  at  all.  Her  heart  stood 
still  at  the  thought.  Dully  she  heard  Cato's  voice 
expounding  the  family  relationships  to  Rogers,  who 
seemed  to  be  for  the  moment  dumb.  "  Yes,  sah !  " 
he  was  saying.  "  Dat's  what  I'm  tellin'  you.  Dere 
ain't  nobody  better'n  de  Telfairs  in  all  Alabama. 
Dey  sure  is — Lord  A'mighty !  Who  dat  ?  " 

Alagwa  looked  up  and  saw  a  little  round  French- 
man, almost  as  swarthy  as  an  Indian,  running  down 
the  path  toward  them,  literally  smiling  all  over 
himself.  Behind  him  waddled  an  enormously  fat 
woman,  who  shook  like  a  bowlful  of  jelly. 

A  moment  more  and  the  man  had  come  up.  "  Ah  ! 
Is  it  my  good  friend,  Major  Stickney?"  he  burst 
out.  "  He  brings  me  the  guests,  yes  !  " 


154  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

Stickney  nodded,  smilingly.  "  Four  of  them, 
Peter,"  he  said ;  "  and  one  more  to  come — a  very 
special  one.  I  commend  him  especially  to  your 
sister.  A  man  named — er — Rogers,  I  believe."  He 
grinned  at  the  woman,  who  was  hurrying  up. 

She  grinned  back  at  him.  "  Oh !  La  1  La !  "  she 
cried.  "  That  silent  Mr.  Rogers.  He  will  not  talk. 
He  will  do  nothing  but  eat.  Mon  Dieu !  What  is 
one  to  do  with  such  a  man  ?  But  les  autres  !  These 
other  messieurs  here.  They  are  most  welcome." 

Stickney  nodded.  "  They  start  for  Detroit  to- 
morrow," he  explained,  "  but  before  they  go  they 
want  to  eat  some  of  your  so-wonderful  meals. 
They've  heard  about  them  from  Rogers.  Ah !  But 
that  man  adores  you,  Madame  Fantine.  Besides, 
they've  got  a  lot  to  ask  you." 

"  To  ask  me,  monsieur  ?  "  The  French  woman's 
beady  eyes  darted  inquiringly  from  Stickney  to  Jack 
and  back  again. 

"  Yes !  You  and  our  good  friend  Pierre.** 

"  Bon !  I  shall  answer  with  a  gladness,  but,  yes, 
with  a  gladness.  It  is  of  the  most  welcome  that  they 
are.  They  are  of  the  nobility.  With  half  an  eye 
one  can  see  that.  It  will  be  a  pleasure  the  most 
great  to  entertain  them." 

As  she  spoke  the  French  woman's  roring  eyes 
rested  on  Alagwa's  face.  Instantly  they  widened 
with  an  amazement  that  sent  the  blood  flooding  to 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  155 

the  tips  of  the  girl's  shell-like  ears.     Then  they 
jumped  to  Jack's  face  and  she  gasped. 

"  Of  a  truth,  monsieur,"  she  went  on,  after  an 
almost  imperceptible  break.  "  It  is  not  worth  the 
while  to  prepare  the  dishes  of  la  belle  France  for 
the  cochons  who  live  hereabouts.  They  care  for 
naught  but  enough  to  fill  their  bellies!  But  you, 
monsieur,  ah!  it  will  be  the  great  pleasure  to  cook 
for  you.  Entrez !  Entrez !  Messieurs."  She  stood 
aside  and  waved  her  guests  toward  the  house. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  *'  Maison  Bondie "  consisted  of  two 
square  buildings  of  the  blockhouse  type,  set 
thirty  or  forty  feet  apart  and  connected  by 
a  single  roof  that  turned  the  intervening  space  into 
a  commodious  shed,  beneath  which  was  a  well  and 
a  rack  with  half  a  dozen  basins  that  plainly  com- 
prised the  toilet  arrangements  of  the  hotel.  Both 
buildings  were  built  of  logs,  roughly  squared  and 
strongly  notched  together  at  the  corners.  The 
doorways,  which  opened  on  the  covered  space,  were 
small,  and  the  doors  themselves  were  massive.  The 
windows  were  few  and  were  provided  with  stout  in- 
side shutters  that  could  be  swung  into  place  and 
fastened  at  a  moment's  notice.  Loopholes  were  so 
placed  as  to  command  all  sides  of  the  building.  The 
place  looked  as  if  built  to  withstand  an  attack,  and, 
in  fact,  had  withstood  more  than  one  in  its  ten- 
years'  history. 

Back  of  the  buildings  were  half  a  dozen  wagons, 
each  fronted  by  a  pair  of  horses  or  mules,  which 
were  contentedly  munching  corn  from  the  heavy 
troughs  that  had  been  removed  from  the  rear  and 
placed  athwart  the  tongue  of  the  wagon. 

Yielding  to  Madame  Fantine's  insistence  the  new- 
comers turned  toward  the  entrance  to  the  hotel. 
156 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  157 

But  before  he  had  taken  a  dozen  steps  Major  Stick- 
ney  halted.  "  Hold  on !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  I've  got 
to  go  in  a  minute.  I'll  be  back  tonight,  Mr.  Telfair 
— but  I  want  to  know  something  before  I  go.  Tell 
me,  Peter,  and  you  too,  Madame  Fantine,  did  you 
not  come  from  France  to  Gallipolis  in  1790?  " 

The  Bondies  stopped  short.  Madame  Fantine's 
startled  eyes  sprang  to  Alagwa's  face,  then  drop- 
ped away.  "  But  yes,  Monsieur,"  she  cried.  "  But 
yes !  Ah !  It  was  dreadful.  The  company  have 
defraud  us.  They  have  promised  us  the  rich  lands 
and  the  pleasant  climate  and  the  fine  country  and 
the  game  most  abundant.  And  when  we  come  we 
find  it  is  all  covered  with  the  great  forests.  There 
is  no  land  to  grow  the  crops  until  we  cut  away  the 
trees.  Figure  to  yourself,  messieurs,  was  it  not  the 
wicked  thing  to  bring  from  Paris  to  such  a  spot  men 
who  know  not  to  cut  trees  ?  " 

Stickney  nodded.  "  It  was  pretty  bad,"  he  ad- 
mitted. "  There's  no  doubt  about  that,  though  the 
company  wasn't  altogether  to  blame,  I  believe.  But 
what  I  wanted  to  ask  was  whether  a  gentleman,  M. 
Delaroche  Telfair,  was  on  your  ship." 

"  M.  Delaroche !  You  know  M.  Delaroche  ?  " 
Madame  Fantine's  eyes  grew  big  and  the  color  faded 
from  her  cheeks.  "  But  yes,  monsieur,  he  was  on  the 
ship.  And  he  was  with  us  before.  We  knew  him 
well.  Is  it  not  so,  Pierre?  " 

Peter   Bondie  nodded.      "  All   the  life  we  have 


158  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

known  M.  Delaroche,"  he  said.  "  We  were  born  on 
the  estate  of  his  father,  the  old  count.  Later  we 
have  come  with  him  to  America.  Ah !  But  he  was 
the  great  man!  When  he  married  Mademoiselle 
Delawar  at  Marietta,  Fantine  go  to  her  as  maid. 
Later  she  nurse  la  bebee.  And  then  Madame  Tel- 
fair  die,  and  M.  Delaroche  is  all,  what  you  call, 
broke  up.  He  take  la  bebee  and  he  go  away  into  the 
woods  and  I  see  him  never  again.  But  I  hear  that 
he  is  dead  and  that  la  bebee  grows  up  with  the 
Indians." 

"She  did!"  Major  Stickney  struck  in.  "She 
was  with  them  till  the  other  day.  Now  she  has 
disappeared.  I  thought,  perhaps,  you  might  know 
something  of  her.  Mr.  Telfair  here  has  come  to 
Ohio  to  find  her." 

The  French  woman's  beady  eyes  jumped  to  Jack's 
face.  "  This  monsieur !  "  she  gasped.  "  Is  he  of 
the  family  Telfair?" 

"  Yes,  of  the  American  branch.  His  people  have 
lived  in  Alabama  for  a  hundred  years ! " 

"And  he  seeks  the  Lady  Estelle? "  Wonder 
spoke  in  the  woman's  tones. 

Stickney  nodded  impatiently.  "  Yes  !  Of  course," 
he  reiterated.  "  The  old  Count  Telfair  is  dead  and 
his  estates  all  belong  to  the  daughter  of  M.  Dela- 
roche. The  title  descends  to  the  English  branch, 
to  Mr.  Brito  Telfair " 

"  M.  Brito!"  Fantine  and  Pierre  looked  at  each 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  159 

other.  "  Ah !  that  is  what  bring  him  to  Canada," 
they  cried,  together. 

"  You  knew  that  he  was  in  Canada?  "  It  was 
Jack  who  asked  the  question. 

Fantine  answered.  "  But,  yes,  monsieur,"  she 
said.  "  We  have  friends  at  Maiden  tha't  send  us 
word.  I  know  not  then  why  he  come,  but  now  it  is 
very  clear.  He  want  to  marry  the  Lady  Estelle  and 
get  her  property  to  pay  his  debts.  Ah!  Le 
scelerat ! " 

"  You  seem  to  know  him?  "  Jack  was  curious. 

"  Non,  monsieur.  I  know  him  not.  But  I  know 
of  him.  And  I  know  his  house.  M.  Delaroche  has 
hated  it  always." 

"  He  warned  Tecumseh  against  him  before  he 
died,  and  when  Brito  turned  up  and  asked  for  Miss 
Estelle,  as  he  did  two  or  three  months  ago,  Tecumseh 
put  him  off  and  sent  a  messenger  to  me  asking  me 
to  come  and  take  charge  of  her.  I  am  a  member 
of  the  Panther  clan  of  the  Shawnees,  you  know; 
Tecumseh's  mother  raised  me  up  a  member  when 
I  was  a  boy,  ten  years  ago.  Perhaps  it  was  because 
of  Delaroche  that  she  did  so.  I  came  on  at  once 
but  when  I  got  to  Girty's  Town  I  found  that  the 
girl  had  disappeared." 

"  And  you  can  not  find  her?  "  Fantine's  bright 
eyes  were  darting  from  Jack's  face  to  Alagwa's  and 
back  again.  "  You  have  search — and  you  can  not 
find  her?" 


160  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

"  Well !  I  haven't  searched  very  much  1 "  Jack 
laughed  ruefully.  "  I  haven't  been  able."  He  went 
on  and  told  of  his  adventures  with  Williams. 

Fantine  listened  in  seeming  amazement,  with 
many  exclamations  and  shrugs  of  her  mighty 
shoulders.  WTien  Jack  tried  to  slur  over  his  pick- 
ing up  of  the  boy,  as  being,  to  his  mind,  not  perti- 
nent to  the  subject,  she  broke  in  and  insisted  on 
hearing  the  tale  in  full. 

Alagwa  listened  with  swimming  brain.  She  was 
sure,  sure,  that  this  fiendishly  clever  French  woman 
had  penetrated  her  sex  at  a  glance  and  that  she  had 
almost  as  swiftly  guessed  her  identity  with  the  miss- 
ing girl.  Exposure  stared  her  in  the  face.  Her 
plans  rocked  and  crashed  about  her. 

In  the  last  three  days  Alagwa  had  come  to  think 
her  disguise  perfect  and  had  built  on  it  in  many 
ways.  By  it  she  had  hoped  to  carry  out  her  pledge 
to  Tecumseh.  With  her  detection  her  mission  must 
fail  or,  at  least,  be  sharply  circumscribed.  She  had 
known  Jack  for  three  days  only,  but  she  was  very 
sure  that,  once  he  knew  who  she  was,  he  would  insist 
on  taking  her  south  with  him  to  Alabama.  She 
could  not  serve  Tecumseh  in  Alabama.  Moreover — 
her  heart  fluttered  at  the  thought — Jack  would  no 
longer  treat  her  with  the  same  frank,  free  comrade- 
ship that  had  grown  so  dear  to  her.  She  did  not 
know  how  he  would  treat  her,  but  she  was  sure  it 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  161 

would  be  different.     And  she  did  not  want  it  to  be 
different. 

Desperately  she  sought  for  some  way  to  ward  off 
the  threatened  disclosure.  The  Frenchwoman  seemed 
in  no  haste  to  speak ;  perhaps  she  might  be  induced 
to  be  silent.  Alagwa  remembered  the  roll  of  gold 
coins  that  Tecumseh  had  given  her.  Perhaps — • — 

Suddenly  she  remembered  that  this  woman  had 
been  her  nurse  when  she  was  small.  For  the  moment 
she  had  failed  to  realize  this  fact  or  to  guess  what  it 
might  mean.  Now,  that  she  did  so,  hope  sprang  up  in 
her  heart.  If  Fantine  kept  silence  till  she  could 
speak  to  her  alone  she  would  throw  herself  on  her 
mercy,  tell  her  all  that  she  had  not  already  guessed, 
and  beg  for  silence.  Surely  her  old  nurse  might 
grant  her  that  much.  She  did  not  know,  she  could 
not  know,  that  her  wishes  would  be  law  to  one  like 
Fantine,  born  on  the  estates  of  the  great  house  from 
which  she  was  descended. 

Jack's  tale  drew  to  a  close.  "  That's  all,  I 
reckon,"  he  ended.  "  Can  you  suggest  anything, 
madame  ?  " 

Fantine's  lips  twitched.  Again  she  looked  at 
Alagwa  and  then  met  Jack's  eyes  squarely.  "  Non, 
Monsieur !  I  can  suggest  nothing,  me ! "  she  as- 
sented, deliberately.  "  But,  monsieur,  I  make  you 
very  welcome  to  the  house  of  Bondie.  Is  this  " — 
she  jerked  her  head  toward  Alagwa — "  is  this  the 
boy  you  have  rescue?  "  Her  eyes  bored  into  his. 
11 


162  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

Jack  grinned.  He  was  beginning  to  like  the  big 
French  woman  immensely.  "  I  wouldn't  call  it 
rescue,  exactly,"  he  said.  "  But  this  is  the  boy." 

"  Ah !  la,  la,"  the  French  woman  burst  out.  "  Le 
pauvre  garcon!  But  he  is  tired,  yes,  one  can  see 
that,  and  I  am  the  big  fool  that  I  keep  him  and  you 
standing.  Ah,  la,  la,  but  we  all  are  of  blindness. 
Ah!  yes  but  of  a  blindness.  Entrez,  entrez,  mes- 
sieurs !  Peter  will  show  the  black  monsieur  where  to 
put  the  horses.  Entrez ! " 

Jack  turned  obediently  toward  the  entrance,  but 
Stickney  halted.  Plainly  he  was  disappointed  at 
Fantine's  lack  of  information.  "  Well !  I'm  off," 
he  declared.  "  I'll  be  back  later  to  go  over  things 
with  you,  Mr.  Telfair." 

He  strode  away,  and  Jack  and  Alagwa  followed 
Madame  Fantine  beneath  the  shed.  Cato  and  Peter 
led  the  horses  away. 

The  smaller  of  the  two  buildings  evidently  served 
as  a  store.  No  white  men  were  visible  about  its 
entrance,  but  through  the  open  door  the  newcomers 
could  see  an  Indian  woman  behind  the  counter  and 
a  dozen  blanketed  Indians  patiently  waiting  their 
turn  to  trade.  At  the  door  of  the  larger  building, 
several  white  men  were  sitting,  and  inside,  in  the 
great  bar  room,  Jack  could  see  a  dozen  more  eating 
at  a  table  made  of  roughly-hewn  planks  set  on  home- 
made trestles. 

Close  to  the  door  Madame  Fantine  paused.   "  You 


THE  WABD  OF  TECUMSEH  163 

will  want  to  wash,  yes?  "  she  questioned,  waving 
her  hands  toward  the  basins. 

Jack  nodded.     "  Glad  to!  "  he  declared. 

"  It  is  all  yours,  monsieur.  It  is  not  what  you 
are  accustomed  to,  but  on  the  frontier — What  would 
you,  monsieur?  For  the  table — ah!  but,  messieurs, 
there  you  shall  live  well.  I  go  to  prepare  for  you 
the  dishes  of  la  belle  France." 

She  turned  away,  then  stopped.  "  Ah !  But  I 
forget !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Le  pauvre  garcon  has 
the  fatigue,  yes,"  she  turned  to  Alagwa.  "  Come 
with  me,  jeune  monsieur,"  she  said;  "  and  you  shall 
rest.  Oh !  but  it  is  that  you  remind  me  of  my  own 
son,  he  who  has  gone  to  the  blessed  angels.  Come !  " 
Without  waiting  for  comment  the  big  French  woman 
threw  her  arm  around  Alagwa's  shoulders  and  hur- 
ried her  into  the  house,  past  the  eating  men,  who 
regarded  her  not  at  all,  and  on  into  another  room. 

There  she  turned  on  the  girl,  holding  out  her 
arms.  "  Ah  !  Ma  petite  fille !  "  she  cried.  "  Think 
you  Fantine  did  not  know  you  when  you  looked  at 
her  out  of  the  face  of  that  dear,  dead  Monsieur 
Delaroche.  Have  I  hold  you  in  my  arms  when  you 
were  the  one  small  bebee  to  forget  you  now.  Ah! 
non !  non !  non !  Ah !  But  the  men  are  of  a  blind- 
ness. The  wise  young  man  he  search,  search,  and 
not  know  he  have  found  already." 

Alagwa's  heart  melted.  Suddenly  she  realized 
the  strain  under  which  she  had  been  for  the  last 


164  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

four  days.  With  a  sob  of  relief  she  slipped  into  the 
French  woman's  arms  and  wept  her  heart  out  on  the 
latter's  motherly  bosom. 

The  latter  soothed  her  gently.  "  There !  There ! 
Pauvre  bebee,"  she  murmured.  "  Fear  not !  All 
will  be  right.  But  what  has  happened  that  you  are 
thus?"  She  glanced  at  the  girl's  masculine  attire. 
"  Ah !  But  it  must  be  the  great  tale.  Tell  Fantine 
about  it.  Tell  your  old  nurse,  who  adores  you ! " 

Between  sobs  Alagwa  obeyed,  pouring  out  the 
tale  of  all  that  had  befallen  her  since  the  day  when 
Captain  Brito  had  sought  her  out.  She  held  back 
only  the  real  object  with  which  she  had  come  into 
the  American  lines.  "  Tecumseh  sent  me  to  find 
the  young  white  chief  from  the  far  south,"  she 
ended. 

"  But,  ma  cherie,"  the  French  woman  interrupted. 
"  Have  you  not  found  him?  Why  do  you  not  tell 
him  who  you  are?  " 

The  girl  shook  her  head  in  panic.  "Oh!  No! 
No !  "  she  cried.  "  He  must  not  know." 

"But  why  not?" 

"  Because — because  " — Alagwa  cast  about  des- 
perately for  an  excuse.  "  He  would  be  ashamed 
of  me,"  she  said.  "  I  am  so  different  from  the 
women  he  has  known." 

Fantine's  eyes  twinkled.  Emphatically  she  nod- 
ded. "  Different?  Yes,  truly,  you  are  different," 
she  cried,  scanning  the  dark,  oval  face,  the  scarlet 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  165 

lips,  the  rich  hair  that  tangled  about  the  broad 
brow.  "  Ah !  But  yes,  of  a  truth  you  are  dif- 
ferent !  In  a  few  months  you  will  be  very  different. 
But,  monsieur  the  wise  young  man  will  not  com- 
plain." 

Alagwa's  eyes  widened.  "  You — you  think  I  will 
be  pretty  like — like  the  white  women  he  has  known?  " 
she  asked,  shyly. 

"  Pretty !  Mother  of  God !  She  asks  whether  she 
will  be  pretty?  Ah!  Rascal  that  you  are;  to  jest 
with  your  old  nurse  so.  But — but  it  is  not  proper 
that  you  should  be  clothed  thus — "  again  Fantine 
glanced  rebukingly  at  the  girl's  nether  limbs — "  or 
that  you  should  travel  alone  with  a  young  man. 
That  becomes  not  a  demoiselle  of  France." 

The  terror  in  the  girl's  eyes  came  back.  "  But  I 
must,"  she  cried.  "  Please — please " 

"But  why?" 

A  deep  red  stained  the  girl's  cheeks.  "  Oh," 
she  cried.  "  I  must  know  why  he  seeks  me.  The 
Captain  Brito  want  to  marry  me  for  what  has  come 
to  me.  This  one — this  one — Is  he,  too,  base?  Does 
he,  too,  seek  me  because  I  have  great  possessions? 
If  he  finds  out  who  I  am  I  shall  never  learn.  If  he 
does  not  find  out " 

The  French  woman  chuckled.  "  And  the  wise 
young  man  does  not  guess  that  you  are  a  woman !  " 
she  cried,  holding  up  her  hands.  "  Ah !  Quelle 
betise.  Eh !  bien,  I  see  well  it  is  too  late  to  talk  of 


166  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

chaperones  now.  Have  no  fear,  ma  petite!  I  will 
not  tell  him.  He  seems  a  good  young  man — as  men 
go.  I  read  it  in  his  eyes.  But  truly  he  is  a  great 
Jool." 

But  at  this  the  girl  grew  suddenly  angry.  "  He 
is  no  fool,"  she  cried.  "  He  is " 

"All  men  are  fools,"  quoth  the  French  woman, 
sagely.  "  You  will  find  it  so  in  time.  Go  your  way, 
cherie!  Fantine  Loire  will  not  betray  you.  And, 
remember,  her  house  is  ever  open  to  you.  Come  back 
to  her  when  you  will.  Tonight  you  will  sleep  here, 
in  this  room  of  my  own  son,  now  with  the  blessed 
saints.  And  now — Mother  of  God !  I  must  fly  or 
M.  Jack  will  be  mad  with  the  hunger.  And,  cherie, 
remember  this !  Men  are  not  well  to  deal  with  when 
they  are  hungry.  Feed  them,  ma  cherie !  Feed 
them ! "  She  rushed  away,  leaving  Alagwa  alone. 

How  the  girl  got  through  dinner  she  never  knew. 
After  it,  when  Major  Stickney  returned,  bringing 
Captain  Wells,  a  tall,  grave  man,  she  pleaded  fatigue 
and  left  him  and  Jack  to  talk  with  each  other  and 
with  the  men  in  the  hotel,  while  she  slipped  away  to 
the  room  that  Madame  Fantine  had  prepared  for 
her.  Till  late  that  night  she  and  the  kindly  French 
woman  sat  up  and  talked. 

Even  when  left  alone  the  girl  did  not  sleep.  Her 
duty  to  Tecumseh  lay  heavy  on  her  soul.  She  must 
send  him  the  information  in  her  possession  or  she 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  167 

must  confess  herself  a  coward  and  a  traitor  to  her 
people. 

Yet  she  shrank  from  it.  Not  for  the  sake  of  the 
men  in  the  fort !  She  hated  them  all,  she  told  her- 
self. Gladly  would  she  slay  them  all.  And  not 
for  the  sake  of  the  Bondies.  She  had  learned  enough 
that  night  to  feel  sure  that  they  would  be  safe  from 
any  Indian  attack.  No !  Her  hesitation  came  from 
another  cause. 

What  would  Jack  say  when  he  knew  that  she  was 
a  spy?  Insistently  the  question  drummed  into  her 
ears.  What  would  he  say?  What  would  he  do? 
She  pressed  her  fingers  to  her  hot  eyeballs,  but  the 
pressure  did  not  dim  the  vision  of  his  eyes,  stricken 
blank  with  anger  and  with  shame. 

And  yet  she  must  send  Tecumseh  word.  She 
must!  She  had  promised  to  keep  the  faith,  to  do 
her  duty  regardless  of  consequences  to  herself.  She 
had  visioned  death  as  her  punishment  and  had  been 
ready  to  face  it.  She  had  not  visioned  the  torture  of 
Jack's  hurt  eyes.  For  a  moment  they  seemed  to 
her  harder  to  face  than  the  stake  and  the  flame. 
But  should  she  stop  for  this — stop  because  the 
penalty  was  heavier  than  she  had  thought?  Never. 

One  crumb  of  comfort  came  to  her.  One  thing 
at  least  she  could  do;  one  small  recompense  she 
could  exact.  She  could  demand  Jack's  safety.  She 
could  send  a  message  to  Tecumseh  that  would  make 
the  lad's  comings  and  goings  safe.  She  knew  he 


168  THE  WABITOF  TECUMSEH 

would  hate  her  for  it.  But  he  would  hate  her  any- 
way. She  would  not  stop  for  that.  She  would 
make  him  safe.  And  when  it  was  all  over  and  he 
knew,  she  would  die  as  an  Indian  maid  should  die. 

Noiselessly — as  noiselessly  as  she  had  moved 
through  the  forests — Alagwa  rose  from  her  bed  and 
slipped  to  the  door.  Inch  by  inch  she  opened  it  and 
looked  out.  The  house  was  black  and  silent;  its 
inmates  slept.  Slowly  she  crept  to  the  entrance 
to  the  big  bar  room.  The  night  was  hot  and  the 
windows  and  the  door  stood  wide  open,  letting  in 
a  faint  glimmer  from  moon  and  stars.  In  its  light 
the  sleeping  forms  of  men  on  the  floor  loomed  black. 
Side  by  side  they  lay,  so  close  together  that  Alagwa 
could  see  no  clear  passageway  between  them.  Sup- 
pose they  waked  as  she  tried  to  pass ! 

It  did  not  occur  to  her  that  her  going  out  would 
surprise  no  one — that  no  one  would  dream  of  ques- 
tioning her.  Her  conscience  made  a  coward  of  her 
and  made  her  think  that  to  be  seen  was  to  be  sus- 
pected. Desperately  she  caught  her  breath  and 
looked  about  her,  seeking  Jack's  form,  but  failing 
to  find  it.  He  was  indistinguishable  among  the 
blanket-wrapped  forms. 

Long  she  stood  at  the  door,  peering  into  the 
room,  her  heart  hammering  in  unsteady  rhythm. 
At  last  she  stepped  forward  gingerly,  threading  her 
way,  inch  by  inch,  catching  her  breath  as  some 
sleeper  stirred  uneasily,  expecting  every  moment 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  169 

to  hear  the  ringing  out  of  a  fierce  challenge.  Foot 
by  foot  she  pressed  onward  till  the  door  was  at  her 
hand.  Through  it  she  stepped  out  beneath  the  mid- 
night sky. 

The  night  was  very  still.  High  overhead  the 
slim  crescent  of  the  moon  peered  through  swift- 
flying  clouds.  Round  about,  the  great  stars, 
scarcely  dimmed,  flared  like  far-off  candles.  The 
broad  shallow  river  ran  away  to  the  east,  a  silver 
whiplash  laid  across  the  darkened  prairie.  Beyond, 
the  huddle  of  huts  that  marked  the  Indian  village 
stood  out  against  the  horizon.  To  the  left,  nearer 
at  hand,  rose  the  black  quadrilateral  of  the  fort. 

All  around  rose  the  voices  of  the  night.  A  screech 
owl  hooted  from  a  near-by  tree.  A  fox  barked  in 
the  long  grass.  Nearer  at  hand  restless  horses  and 
mules  stamped  at  their  fastenings.  Over  all  rose 
the  bellow  of  bullfrogs,  the  lapping  of  the  river 
against  its  banks,  and  the  ceaseless,  strident  calls  of 
the  crickets. 

Once  more  Alagwa's  hot  eyes  sought  the  fort. 
Within  it  were  the  men  of  the  race  she  hated — the 
men  who  had  derided  and  had  threatened  the  young 
white  chief.  There,  too,  the  murderer  of  Wilwiloway 
slept  safe  and  snug,  pardoned — yes,  even  com- 
mended— for  his  crime.  And  should  she  withhold 
her  hand?  Never!  She  would  take  revenge  upon 
them  all. 

Swiftly    she    slipped   through    the    grass   to   the 


170  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

shadow  of  a  near-by  tree.  Then,  raising  her  head, 
she  gave  the  soft  cry  of  the  whip-poor-will. 

Long  she  waited,  but  no  answer  came.  Again 
she  called  and  yet  again,  till  at  last  an  answering 
call  came  softly  to  her  ears.  A  moment  more  and 
the  form  of  the  runner  shaped  itself  out  of  the 
night. 

Eagerly  she  leaned  forward.  "  Bear  word  to 
the  great  chief,"  she  said,  in  the  Shawnee  tongue, 
"  that  the  fort  here  is  almost  without  ammunition. 
Let  the  great  chief  come  quickly  and  it  will  fall  into 
his  hands  like  a  ripe  persimmon.  But  let  him  have 
a  care  for  the  lives  of  the  agent,  Major  Stickney, 
and  for  those  of  Peter  Bondie  and  his  family.  They 
are  the  friends  of  Alagwa." 

The  runner  nodded.  "  Alagwa  need  not  fear," 
he  promised.  "  They  are  also  the  friends  of  the 
Indian.  Is  there  more  to  be  said." 

"  Yes !  "  Alagwa  nodded.  "  Tell  the  great  chief 
that  I  have  found  the  young  white  chief  from  the 
south,  and  that  through  him  I  hope  to  learn  many 
things  that,  without  him,  I  could  not  learn.  Say 
to  him  that  Alagwa  demands  that  he  give  warning 
to  all  his  warriors  not  to  touch  the  white  chief. 
For  on  him  Alagwa's  success  depends.  I  have 
spoken.  Go." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

LONG  before  sunrise  the  "  Maison  Bondie " 
was  awake  and  stirring.  Early  hours  were 
the  rule  for  travellers  in  those  days  on  the 
•frontier.  While  yet  the  earth  was  shrouded  in 
shadow  and  the  mists  were  drifting  along  the  broad 
ribbon  of  the  river,  the  sleepers  on  the  bar-room 
floor  were  rolling  up  their  blankets  and  making  their 
hasty  toilets  before  scattering  to  feed  the  mules 
and  hitch  them  to  the  wagons  preparatory  for  a 
start  to  Vincennes  and  the  south.  Half  an  hour 
later  they  returned  to  the  bar  room  to  devour  the 
hasty  yet  heavy  meal  spread  for  them. 

Jack  and  his  party  were  astir  as  early  as  the  rest 
— Jack  and  Cato  because  it  was  impossible  to  sleep 
later  on  the  crowded  floor,  and  Alagwa  because  of 
her  keen  anticipation  of  the  coming  day.  Cato 
hurried  out  to  see  to  the  horses  and  to  the  mule 
that  Jack  had  bought  for  him  the  night  before,  and 
Jack  and  Alagwa  foregathered  at  the  wash  basins 
beneath  the  shed.  Even  earlier  than  the  wagoners, 
they  seated  themselves  at  the  rough  table  and 
hastily  devoured  the  breakfast  placed  before  them, 
impatient  to  be  gone  down  the  long  trail  that  led 
to  Fort  Miami  and  to  Detroit. 

171 


172  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

Tom  Rogers  was  not  to  accompany  them.  In 
spite  of  Colonel  Johnson's  assurances,  Jack  was  by 
no  means  certain  that  either  Alagwa  or  Captain 
Brito  had  left  the  vicinity  of  Wapakoneta.  He  was 
going  to  Detroit  because  that  seemed  the  most 
promising  thing  to  do,  but  he  decided  to  send  Rogers 
back  to  Wapakoneta  to  keep  a  sharp  look-out  for 
both  the  girl  and  the  man. 

"  You'll  know  what  to  do  if  you  find  the  man," 
he  said,  grimly,  as  he  told  Rogers  good-by.  "  War 
has  begun,  and  Captain  Brito  has  no  right  to  be 
in  this  country.  If  you  find  the  girl,  take  her  to 
Colonel  Johnson  and  then  get  word  to  me  as  quick 
as  you  can." 

Amid  many  calls  of  adieu  and  bon  voyage  from 
the  kindly  French  people  the  travellers  set  off.  The 
sun  was  not  yet  up,  but  as  the  three  cantered  to 
the  ford  close  beside  the  blockhouse,  that  frowned 
from  the  southwest  corner  of  the  fort,  the  morning 
gun  boomed  and  the  Stars  and  Stripes  flung  out 
to  the  breeze.  An  instant  later,  as  the  horses 
splashed  through  the  shallow  water,  the  sun  thrust 
out  through  a  gash  in  the  clouds  above  the  eastern 
forest,  lighting  up  the  snapping  banner  with  its 
seventeen  emblematic  stars.  A  moment  more,  and 
the  dew-studded  fields  began  to  glisten  like  dia- 
monds, coruscating  with  many-colored  fire,  and  the 
mists  that  lay  along  the  river  shredded  and  swirled 
in  rainbow  tints.  The  wind  sprang  up  and  the  vast 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  173 

arch  of  the  heavens  thummed  with  reverberant 
murmurs,  inarticulate  voices  of  a  world  new  born, 
thrilling  with  the  ever-fresh  hopes  with  which  it  had 
thrilled  since  the  morning  df  time. 

For  a  few  miles  the  road  ran  through  open  fields 
that  stretched  along  the  north  bank  of  the  Maumee, 
a  sunlit  water  strung  with  necklaces  of  bubbles  that 
streamed  away  from  the  long  grasses  that  lay  upon 
its  surface.  A  faint  freshness  rose  like  perfume 
from  the  stream,  diffusing  itself  through  the  amber 
air.  Here  and  there  limbs  of  sunken  trees  pro- 
truded from  the  water,  token  of  the  great  trunks 
submerged  beneath  its  flood;  round  them  castles 
of  foam  swelled  and  sank,  chuckling  away  into 
nothingness. 

Then  came  the  forest,  a  mounting  line  stretching 
across  the  path.  Fragrant  at  first  and  warm  with 
the  morning  sun  it  swiftly  closed  in,  dim  and  moist 
and  cool,  arching  above  the  road  and  the  heads  of 
the  travellers. 

Side  by  side  rode  Jack  and  Alagwa.  The  girl's 
heart  was  beating  high,  leaping  in  unison  with  the 
stride  of  the  horse  that  bore  her.  Gone  were  the 
fancies  and  questionings  of  the  night.  For  good 
or  for  ill  she  had  sent  the  message  to  Tecumseh. 
She  had  kept  faith  with  those  who  had  cared  for  her 
for  so  many  years.  She  had  insured  Jack's  safety 
so  long  as  she  should  remain  with  him.  It  was  all 
done  and  could  not  be  undone.  Some  day,  she  knew, 


174  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

she  must  pay  for  it  all,  pay  to  the  uttermost,  but 
that  day  was  not  yet.  Till  it  came  she  would  forget. 
Resolutely  she  put  all  fear  of  the  future  behind  her, 
living  only  in  and  for  the  moment. 

Jack,  too,  was  happy ;  the  dawn  worked  its  magic 
on  him  as  it  did  the  girl  by  his  side.  Youth, 
strength,  and  health  jumped  together  in  his  veins. 
He  did  not  know  why  he  was  happy.  He  was  not 
prone  to  analyze  his  sensations.  If  he  had  thought 
of  the  fact  at  all  he  would  probably  have  imagined 
that  he  was  happy  because  he  was  going  to  the  seat 
of  war  and  because  he  hoped  to  find  there  the  girl 
in  search  of  whom  he  had  come  so  many  miles.  It 
would  not  have  occurred  to  him  that  he  was  re- 
joicing less  in  the  coming  end  of  his  journey  than 
he  was  in  the  journey  itself.  Nor  would  it  have 
crossed  his  mind  that  he  would  have  contemplated 
the  journey  itself  with  far  less  pleasure  if  he  had 
been  alone  or  had  been  accompanied  only  by  Cato. 
He  rejoiced  in  the  company  of  his  new  boy  chum 
without  knowing  that  he  did  so. 

And  he  had  not  thought  of  Sally  Habersham  for 
more  than  twenty-four  hours ! 

For  a  time  neither  spoke.  The  road  was  broader 
and  better  than  that  up  the  St.  Marys.  For  years 
it  had  been  a  thoroughfare  along  which  Indians, 
traders,  and  armies  had  moved  in  long  procession ; 
and  it  was  well  trampled,  though  it  still  required 
careful  riding  to  prevent  the  horses  stumbling. 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  175 

Alagwa,  in  particular,  was  silent  because  she  was 
puzzling  over  a  question  that  the  events  of  the  last 
evening  had  made  pressing. 

If  she  was  ever  to  find  out  beyond  a  doubt  the 
reason  why  Jack  came  to  Ohio  to  search  for  her  she 
must  find  it  out  at  once.  She  did  not  know,  could 
not  know,  how  long  her  opportunity  to  question 
would  continue.  Fantine  had  detected  her  secret 
and  had  kept  it.  At  any  moment  another  might 
detect  it  and  might  be  less  kindly. 

Besides,  Fantine  had  spoken  as  if  she  was  doing 
wrong  in  travelling  with  Jack,  even  though  he 
thought  her  a  boy.  Alagwa  wondered  at  this,  for 
no  such  conventions  held  among  the  Indians,  among 
whom  in  early  days  unchastity  was  so  rare  that  a 
woman  had  better  be  dead  than  guilty  of  it. 

Jack  noticed  the  girl's  abstraction  and  rode 
silently,  waiting  on  her  mood.  At  last  he  grew  im- 
patient. "  A  penny  for  your  thoughts,  youngster," 
he  offered,  smiling. 

Alagwa  started.  Then  she  met  his  eyes  gravely. 
"  I  wonder  much,"  she  said.  "  The  thoughts  of  the 
Indian  are  simple,  but  those  of  the  white  men  are 
forked,  and  I  can  not  read  them.  You  have  come  by 
dim  trails  over  miles  of  hill  and  forest  to  find 
this  girl  whom  you  know  never.  And  the  Captain 
Brito,  the  chief  in  the  red  coat,  he  also  come  far, 
by  land  and  by  sea,  to  seek  her.  Why  do  you 
come?  I  do  not  understand." 


176  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 


do  I  come?  "  Jack  echoed  the  words, 
smilingly.  "  Well  !  Let's  see  !  I  come  for  several 
reasons  —  partly  because  Tecumseh  sent  me  a  belt 
asking  me  to  come  and  partly  because  I  was  in  the 
mood  for  adventure,  but  mostly  because  the  girl  is 
my  cousin  and  because  she  needs  help.  I  told  you 
all  this  before,  didn't  I?  " 

"  Yes  !  But  is  not  the  Count  Brito  ready  to  help  ? 
Why  do  you  not  let  him  ?  " 

Jack  laughed.  "  I  reckon  he  is,"  he  confessed. 
"  And,  so  far  as  I  know,  he  might  have  been  able 
to  make  her  quite  as  happy  as  my  people  can.  I 
don't  really  know  anything  against  Brito.  His 
reputation  isn't  very  good,  but,  Lord  !  whose  is?  " 

"  If  he  found  her,  what  would  he  do  with  her?  " 
Alagwa  knew  she  was  on  perilous  ground,  but  she 
went  on,  nevertheless. 

"  He'd  marry  her  out  of  hand,  of  course.  That 
would  give  him  the  Telfair  estates,  you  see.  He's 
said  to  be  heavily  in  debt,  and  the  money  would  be 
a  godsend  to  him.  After  that  a  lot  would  depend 
on  the  girl.  If  she  happened  to  take  his  fancy  he 
might  be  very  decent  to  her.  And  there's  no  deny- 
ing that  she  might  like  the  life  he  would  give  her. 
But  the  chances  are  against  it,  and  it's  my  duty 
to  see  that  she  isn't  tricked  into  it  blindfolded.  Here 
in  this  forest  she  couldn't  possibly  understand,  any 
more  than  you  can,  what  a  wonderful  thing  it  is 
to  be  mistress  of  the  Telfair  estates.  If  she  marries 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  177 

Brito  she  gives  up  everything  without  having  known 
that  she  had  it." 

Alagwa  was  listening  earnestly,  trying  hard  to 
comprehend  the  new  unthought-of  phase  of  life  that 
Jack  was  discussing.  One  thing,  however,  she 
fastened  on. 

"  But  if  she  refuse  to  marry  him?  "  she  questioned. 
"  If  she  say  she  will  not  make  his  moccasins  nor 
pound  his  corn?  " 

"  She  wouldn't  refuse.  What !  An  Indian-bred 
girl,  ignorant  of  everything  outside  these  Ohio 
forests,  refuse  to  marry  a  British  officer,  who  came 
to  her  with  his  hands  full  of  gifts?  Refusal  isn't 
worth  considering.  And  if  she  really  should  be 
stubborn  he  could  easily  ruin  her  reputation " 

"Reputation?     What  is  that?  " 

"  It's — it's — I'll  be  hanged  if  I  know  exactly  how 
to  explain  it  so  that  you  can  understand.  I  reckon 
the  Indians  don't  bother  about  it.  But  in  civiliza- 
tion, among  white  people,  a  girl  can't  travel  alone 
with  a  man  without  getting  talked  about.  Brito 
wouldn't  be  likely  to  stop  at  trifles.  He'd  contrive 
it  so  that  the  girl  would  be  compromised  and  then 
she'd  have  to  marry  him."  Jack  stopped;  he  was 
a  clean-mouthed,  clean-hearted  young  fellow,  but  he 
was  no  prude  and  he  could  not  understand  why  he 
should  find  it  so  hard  to  explain  matters  to  the  boy 
at  his  side.  Nevertheless,  when  he  met  Alagwa's 
12 


178  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

wide,  innocent  eyes,  he  stopped  in  despair,  tongue- 
tied  and  flushing. 

Alagwa  was  clearly  startled.  "  You  mean  that 
if  a  white  girl  take  the  long  trail  with  a  man  she  is 
comprom — compromised — and  that  she  must  marry 
him  or  that  the  sachems  and  the  braves  will  drive 
her  from  the  council  fires?"  she  questioned. 

"  Well — something  like  that.  This  girl,  in  her 
ignorance,  would  lose  her  reputation  before  she  knew 
she  had  one.  And  she'd  have  to  marry  him  to  get 
it  back!" 

"  But — But  if  he  refuse  to  marry  her.  If  a  man 
travel  with  a  girl  and  then  not  marry  her?  "  A 
deep  red  had  rushed  to  Alagwa's  cheeks ;  she  bent 
down  her  head  to  hide  it. 

Jack  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Brito  wouldn't 
refuse !  "  he  declared. 

"  I  mean  not  Brito  only.  I  mean  any  man  who 
had — had  compromise  a  girl.  Suppose  he  refuse  to 
take  her  to  his  lodge  in  honor?  " 

"  Any  man  who  did  that  would  be  a  scoundrel. 
The  girl's  father  or  brother  or  friend  would  call 
him  out  and  kill  him.  But,  as  I  say,  Brito  would 
marry  Estelle,  of  course.  And  he  wouldn't  need  to 
do  anything  to  compel  her.  She'd  marry  him  will- 
ingly enough.  You  know  it." 

Alagwa  did  not  deny  it.  Jack's  assertion  was 
correct ;  no  Indian  girl  would  refuse  to  marry  a  red- 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  179 

coat  chief.  But  his  earlier  assertion  concerning  the 
loss  of  reputation  gave  her  food  for  thought. 

"  And  you?  "  she  asked.  "  If  you  find  her  what 
will  you  do?  " 

"I?   I'd  take  her  home." 

"  And  would  it  not  compromise  her  to  travel  so 
long  and  dim  a  trail  with  you?  " 

Jack  flushed.  "  It  isn't  exactly  the  same  thing," 
he  answered  at  last,  hesitatingly.  "  This  is  America 
and  we  are  not  so  censorious.  Europe  is  very  differ- 
ent. Over  here  we  think  people  are  all  right  till 
we  are  forced  to  think  otherwise.  In  Europe  they 
think  them  bad  from  the  start.  And,  of  course,  I'd 
protect  her  all  I  could.  Brito  wouldn't.  He'd  be 
trying  to  make  her  marry  him,  you  see,  and  I 
shouldn't." 

The  girl  straightened  suddenly  in  her  saddle. 
"You — you  do  not  want  to  marry  her?"  she 
faltered. 

A  cloud  came  over  Jack's  face.  "  No !  "  he  said, 
slowly.  "  No !  I  don't  want  to  marry  her.  I  shall 
never  marry  anybody." 

Startled,  the  girl  looked  at  him.  Then  her  eyes 
dropped  and  for  a  little  she  rode  silent.  When  the 
talk  was  resumed  it  was  on  other  subjects. 

All  that  day  and  all  the  next  the  three  rode 
beneath  great  trees  that  rose  fifty  feet  from  the 
ground  without  branch  or  leaf,  and  that  stood  so 
close  together  that  no  ray  of  sun  came  through  their 


180  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

arching  branches.  It  was  nearly  sunset  on  the 
second  day  when  they  came  to  the  fort  built  by 
General  Anthony  Wayne  nearly  twenty  years  be- 
fore at  the  junction  of  the  Maumee  and  the  Auglaize 
— the  fort  which  he  had  named  Defiance,  because  he 
declared  that  he  defied  "  all  English,  all  Indians, 
and  all  the  devils  in  hell  to  take  it."  From  it  he 
and  his  army  had  sallied  out  to  meet  and  crush  the 
Miamis  at  the  battle  of  the  Fallen  Timbers. 

The  ruins  of  the  fort  stood  ten  feet  above  the 
water,  on  the  high  point  between  the  Maumee  and 
the  Auglaize.  Mounting  the  gentle  slope  that  led 
upward  from  the  west  the  travellers  descended  into 
a  wide  half-filled  ditch  and  then  climbed  a  steep 
glacis  of  sloping  earth  that  had  encircled  the  ancient 
palisades.  The  logs  and  fascines  that  had  held  the 
ramparts  in  place  had  long  since  rotted  away  and 
most  of  the  inner  lines  of  palisades  had  disappeared. 
Within  their  former  bounds  a  few  scorched  and 
blackened  logs  marked  where  the  four  block-houses 
had  stood.  The  narrow  ditch  that  cut  the  eastern 
wall  and  ran  down  to  the  edge  of  the  river — the 
ditch  dug  to  enable  Wayne's  soldiers  to  get  water 
unseen  by  lurking  foes — was  half  filled  by  sliding 
earth.  Mounting  the  crumbling  ramparts  Jack  and 
Alagwa  stood  and  stared,  striving  to  picture  the 
scene  as  it  was  in  the  days  already  ancient  when 
the  United  States  flag  had  flown  for  the  first  time 
in  the  valley  of  the  Maumee. 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  181 

For  two  or  three  hundred  yards  on  all  sides  the 
forest  trees  had  been  cut  away  and  their  places 
had  been  taken  by  a  light  growth  of  maple  and 
scrub  oak.  On  the  south,  on  the  west  bank  of  the 
Auglaize,  a  single  mighty  oak  towered  heavenward 
— the  council  tree  of  all  the  northern  tribes,  the 
tree  beneath  which  fifty  years  before  Pontiac  had 
mustered  the  greatest  Indian  council  known  in  all 
America  and  had  welded  the  tribes  together  for  his 
desperate  but  vain  assault  upon  the  growing  power 
of  the  white  men — an  assault  which  Tecumseh  was 
even  then  striving  to  emulate. 

Beyond  the  council  oak,  southward  along  the 
Auglaize,  stretched  an  apple  orchard  planted  years 
before  by  the  indefatigable  "Appleseed  Johnny." 
To  the  north,  beyond  the  Maumee,  stood  a  single 
apple  tree,  a  mammoth  of  its  kind,  ancient  already 
and  destined  to  live  and  bear  for  eighty  years  to 
come.  To  the  west,  along  the  road  down  which  the 
three  had  come,  black  spots  showed  where  George 
Ironside's  store  had  stood,  where  Perault,  the  baker, 
had  baked  and  traded,  where  McKenzie,  the  Scot, 
had  made  silver  ornaments  at  a  stiff  price  for  the 
aborigines,  where  Henry  Ball  and  his  wife,  taken 
prisoners  at  St.  Claire's  defeat,  had  won  their 
captors'  good  will  and  saved  their  lives  by  working, 
he  as  a  boatman  and  she  by  washing  and  sewing. 
Near  at  hand,  but  out  of  sight  from  the  fort,  was 
the  house  of  James  Girty,  brother  of  Simon,  where 


182  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

British  agents  from  Canada  had  continually  come  to 
fan  the  discontent  of  the  Indians  against  the  Ameri- 
cans. Up  and  down  the  rivers  stretches  of  weeds 
and  underbrush  choked  the  ground  where  Wayne 
had  found  vast  fields  of  enormous  corn.  Alagwa's 
heart  burned  hotly  as  she  remembered  that  her  peo- 
ple and  those  of  kindred  tribes  had  tilled  those  fields 
for  centuries  before  the  white  man  had  come  into  the 
Ohio  country.  The  fortunes  of  war  had  laid  them 
waste.  Silently  she  prayed  that  the  fortunes  of  war 
might  yet  restore  them! 

Camp  was  rapidly  pitched,  the  horses  fed  and 
picketed  for  the  night,  and  supper  prepared  and 
eaten.  By  the  time  it  was  finished  darkness  had 
closed  in.  The  moon  was  not  yet  up,  though 
promise  of  it  was  silvering  the  unquiet  tops  of  the 
eastern  forest.  But  on  the  exposed  point  the  glim- 
mer of  the  blazing  stars  gave  light  enough  to  see. 

Jack  stood  up.  "  The  first  watch  is  yours,  Cato," 
he  said.  "  Call  me  about  midnight."  "  Bob,"  he 
turned  to  the  girl,  "  as  you  want  to  watch  so  badly, 
I'll  call  you  about  two  o'clock.  I  needn't  caution 
you  both  to  be  careful." 

Alagwa  was  tired  and  she  slept  deeply  and  dream- 
lessly.  She  did  not  share  Jack's  fears.  Even 
though  she  knew  her  message  could  not  yet  have 
reached  Tecumseh,  she  felt  secure  under  the  aegis 
of  his  protection.  Nevertheless,  when  Jack  waked 
her  and  she  saw  the  low  moon  staring  at  her  along 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  183 

the  western  water,  she  went  to  her  post  at  the  edge 
of  the  rampart  determined  to  keep  good  watch  and 
make  sure  that  no  wanderer  of  the  night  should 
creep  upon  the  camp  unawares. 

From  where  she  sat  she  could  see  along  both 
rivers — down  the  Maumee  to  the  east  and  up  the 
Auglaize  to  the  south.  Up  the  latter,  lay  her  home 
at  Wapakoneta,  a  scant  twenty  miles  away.  All  her 
travels  for  the  past  few  days  had  been  west  and 
east  again,  westward  out  one  leg  of  a  triangle,  and 
then  eastward  down  the  other  leg,  and  the  net  gain 
of  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  march,  west  and  east, 
had  been  only  a  score  of  miles  north. 

Toward  Wapakoneta  she  strained  her  eyes,  not 
solely  because  it  was  her  home,  but  because  if  danger 
came  at  all  it  would  come  from  its  direction.  Tecum- 
seh  and  his  braves  had  come  down  the  Auglaize 
less  than  a  week  before  and  laggards  might  follow 
him  at  any  time.  Or,  perhaps,  Captain  Brito  might 
come  north;  Alagwa  knew  that  Jack  doubted  his 
having  left  the  country. 

The  dawn  was  beginning  to  break.  The  boles  of 
the  trees  began  to  stand  separately  out;  the  leaves 
took  on  a  tinge  of  green.  Over  all  reigned  silence. 
No  faintest  sound  gave  warning  of  approaching 
enemies.  But  the  girl  well  knew  that  silence  did  not 
mean  safety.  Too  often  had  she  heard  the  Shawnee 
braves  boast  of  how  they  crept  on  their  sleeping 
enemies  in  the  dawn.  With  renewed  determination 


184  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

she  thrust  forward  her  heavy  rifle  and  strained  her 
eyes  and  ears  anew.  Jack  had  trusted  her ;  she  must 
not  fail  him. 

Suddenly  she  started.  Was  something  moving 
beside  the  great  council  oak  or  was  it  a  mere  figment 
of  her  overstrained  nerves.  The  horses  were  mov- 
ing uneasily ;  now  and  then  they  snorted.  Did  they 
scent  something?  Alagwa  remembered  that  more 
than  once  she  had  heard  the  Shawnee  braves  com- 
plain that  the  sleeping  whites  had  been  awakened 
by  their  uneasy  horses. 

Abruptly  anger  swelled  in  the  girl's  heart.  The 
braves  had  no  right  to  attack  Jack's  party.  She 
had  sent  word  to  Tecumseh  that  it  must  be  pro- 
tected. True,  Tecumseh  could  not  yet  have  received 
her  message,  much  less  have  sent  word  to  respect  it. 
Any  Indians  who  were  creeping  upon  the  camp 
could  only  be  a  party  of  late  recruits  from  Wapa- 
koneta,  bound  north  to  join  Tecumseh  and  the 
British.  Nevertheless,  they  were  acting  counter  to 
the  orders  that  Tecumseh  would  surely  give. 
Alagwa  knew  that  her  anger  was  illogical,  but  she 
let  it  flame  higher  and  higher  as  she  watched.  If 
the  Shawnees  dared  to  attack 

Again  she  set  herself  to  listen.  She  must  not 
rouse  the  camp  without  cause.  Jack  would  laugh 
at  her  if  she  were  frightened  so  easily.  No !  He 
would  not  laugh !  He  was  too  kind  to  laugh.  But 
he  would  despise  her.  She  must  remember  that  she 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  185 

was  playing  the  man;  she  must  show  no  weakness. 
Nothing  had  moved  amid  the  tree  trunks;  she  had 
only  imagined  it.  With  a  sigh  of  relief  she  lowered 
her  rifle. 

Simultaneously  came  a  crash.  A  bullet  drove  the 
earth  from  the  rampart  into  her  face,  filling  her 
eyes  and  mouth  with  its  spatter.  Then  from  every 
tree,  from  every  rock,  forms,  half  naked,  horrible, 
painted,  came  leaping.  Bullets  whistled  before 
them,  rending  the  tortured  air.  As  they  topped  the 
ramparts  one,  wearing  a  woodsman's  garb,  caught 
his  foot  and  fell  forward,  sprawling;  the  others 
hurled  themselves  toward  Jack  and  Cato.  Alagwa 
did  not  stop  to  think  that  these  were  her  people, 
her  friends.  Instinctively  the  muzzle  of  her  rifle 
found  the  naked  breast  of  the  warrior  who  was 
springing  at  Jack,  and  instinctively  she  pressed  the 
trigger.  Then,  heedless  of  the  kick  of  the  heavy 
rifle,  and  of  the  blinding  smoke  that  curled  from  its 
barrel,  and  reckless  of  the  pulsing  bullets  she  threw 
herself  forward.  "  Stop ! "  she  shrieked,,  in  the 
Shawnee  tongue.  *'  Stop !  Tecumseh  commands 
it." 

The  braves  did  not  stop.  Relentlessly  they  came 
on.  One  of  them  sprang  at  Cato;  his  tomahawk 
flashed  in  the  dawn  and  the  negro  went  down,  sprawl- 
ing upon  the  ground.  But  Jack  was  up  now;  his 
rifle  spoke  and  the  Indian  who  had  felled  Cato 
crashed  across  his  body.  As  Jack  turned,  a  whirling 


186  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

hatchet  struck  him  in  the  chest  and  he  staggered 
backward.  But  as  the  man  who  had  thrown  it 
whooped  with  triumph,  Alagwa' s  pistol  barked  and 
he  fell.  From  beneath  him  Jack  rolled  to  Cato's 
side  and  caught  up  the  rifle  that  had  fallen  from  the 
negro's  flaccid  fingers.  As  he  renewed  the  spilled 
priming,  Alagwa,  weaponless,  heard  a  shot  and 
felt  her  cap  fly  from  her  head  and  go  fluttering  to  the 
ground.  Then  Jack  marked  the  man  who  had  fired 
upon  her  and  shot  him  down. 

Dazed,  Alagwa  staggered  back.  For  a  moirent 
she  saw  the  battlefield,  photographed  indelibly  upon 
the  retinas  of  her  eyes ;  saw  the  man  at  whom  Jack 
had  fired  clutching  at  the  air  as  he  fell;  saw  the 
sole  remaining  foe,  the  man  who  had  tripped  at  the 
rampart,  a  huge  man,  broad  and  tall,  leap  at  Jack. 
Then  sight  and  sound  were  blotted  out  together. 


ft 
CHAPTER  XIV 

HOW  long  unconsciousness  held  Alagwa  she 
never  knew.     It  could  not  have  been  for 
very  long,  however,  for  when  she  opened  her 
eyes  she  saw  Jack  and  the  man  in  hunter's  costume, 
the  only  foe  left  standing  by  that  sfyort,  fierce  fight, 
still  facing  each  other.     She  saw  them  dimly,  for, 
though  the  dawn  was  merging  fast  into  the  full  day, 
to  her  eyes  darkness  still  impended. 

Nor  were  her  eyes  alone  affected;  a  pall  seemed 
to  bind  both  her  mind  and  her  muscles,  holding  her 
motionless.  Idly  she  watched  the  two,  with  a 
curious  sense  of  detachment ;  they  seemed  like  figures 
in  a  dream  whose  fate  to  her  meant  less  than  noth- 
ing. 

The  two  men  had  drawn  a  little  apart  and  were 
watching  each  other  narrowly.  Evidently  they 
had  been  struggling  fiercely,  for  both  were  panting ; 
Alagwa  could  see  the  heave  of  their  breasts  as  they 
drew  breath.  The  advantage  seemed  to  be  with 
the  unknown,  for  Jack  was  practically  unarmed; 
in  his  hand  he  had  only  a  light  stick,  charred  at  the 
end,  evidently  a  survival  from  some  ancient  camp- 
fire,  while  the  other  gripped  a  pistol. 

At  last  Jack  broke  the  silence.  "  So,  Captain 
Telf  air,"  he  said.  "  We  meet  again !  " 

187 


188  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

Slowly  into  Alagwa's  consciousness  the  meaning 
of  Jack's  words  penetrated.  She  did  not  move; 
she  could  not  move ;  but  her  eyes  focused  on  the  man 
in  hunter's  garb  who  leaned  forward,  half  crouching, 
and  glared  into  Jack's  face. 

It  was  Brito.  He  had  not  even  disguised  himself, 
unless  it  be  counted  a  disguise  to  discard  his  con- 
spicuous red  coat  in  favor  of  a  neutral-tinted  shirt 
and  deerskin  trousers.  Had  it  not  been  for  Alag- 
wa's dazed  condition,  she  would  have  known  him  in- 
stantly. 

As  she  watched,  he  threw  back  his  shoulders  and 
laughed  with  evil  triumph. 

"Yes!"  he  jeered.  "We  meet  once  more — for 
the  last  time.  Your  friends  hounded  me  out  of 
Wapakoneta.  Damme !  but  they  timed  their  actions 
well!  Who  would  have  thought  they  would  drive 
me  here  just  in  time  to  intercept  you.  The  fortunes 
of  war,  my  dear  cousin,  the  fortunes  of  war." 

Jack  did  not  speak,  and  the  other  half  raised  his 
pistol  and  went  on,  with  a  sudden  change  of  tone: 
"  You  cub,"  he  hissed,  "  you've  got  only  yourself  to 
blame.  I  warned  you  not  to  come  between  me  and 
Estelle  Telfair.  You  came — and  now  you  pay  for 
it.  I'd  be  a  fool  to  let  you  escape  when  fortune  has 
delivered  you  into  my  hand." 

Captain  Brito's  tones  were  growing  more  and 
more  deadly.  With  each  word  Alagwa  expected  to 
hear  his  pistol  roar  and  to  see  Jack  go  crashing 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  189 

down.  Desperately  she  strove  to  spring  to  the 
rescue.  But  she  could  not  move ;  she  could  not  even 
cry  aloud.  A  more  than  night-mare  helplessness 
held  her  fast. 

Jack  faced  his  foe  undauntedly.  Not  for  an  in- 
stant did  he  remove  his  eyes  from  Brito's.  Despite 
the  disparity  in  weapons  he  seemed  not  at  all 
afraid.  "  All  right!"  he  said,  coolly.  "You've 
got  the  advantage  and  I  don't  doubt  you're  cur 
enough  to  use  it.  When  you're  ready,  stop  yelp- 
ing and  blaze  away." 

Brito  flinched  at  the  contempt  in  the  American's 
tones,  but  he  held  himself  in  check.  "  Where  is  the 
girl?"  he  rasped.  "Where  is  she,  d —  you? 
Where  have  you  put  her?  Give  her  up,  and  I'll 
let  you  crawl  home.  Quick,  now,  or  you  die." 

Jack's  eyes  widened.  "  The  girl  ?  "  he  echoed. 
"  I  haven't " — he  broke  off — "  Find  her  for  your- 
self," he  finished.  Alagwa  knew  that  he  had  begun 
a  denial.  Why  had  he  stopped?  Had  he  suddenly 
guessed  who  she  was?  Or  was  he  hoping  to  trap 
Brito  into  some  admission — playing  with  him  in  the 
chilly  dawn  in  the  very  face  of  death? 

Brito  half  raised  his  pistol,  then  lowered  it.  "  I'll 
find  out  now !  "  he  gritted.  "  You're  at  my  mercy. 
I've  got  a  right  to  kill  you  and  I'll  do  it.  I'll  count 
three  and  then,  if  you  don't  speak,  I'll  fire." 

Jack  shrugged  his  shoulders.  Alagwa  noticed 
that  he  was  edging  closer  and  closer  to  the  man  who 


190  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

threatened  him.  "  Don't  wait  for  me,"  he  answered 
scornfully.  "  Shoot  and  get  it  over  with,  you  dog. 
As  for  telling  you  anything,  it's  quite  impossible. 
It  isn't  done,  you  know.  Shoot,  you  hound,  shoot !  " 

The  last  words  were  drowned  in  the  roar  of  the 
heavy  pistol.  Brito  had  taken  the  lad  at  his  word. 
But  as  his  finger  pressed  the  trigger,  Jack  struck 
him  swiftly  and  desperately  with  his  stick  across 
the  knuckles  of  his  pistol  hand. 

The  blow  was  light  but  it  was  sufficient.  Di- 
verted, the  ball  went  wide,  burning  but  not  breaking 
the  skin  on  Jack's  side  above  his  heart.  Before  the 
roar  of  the  pistol  had  died  away,  Jack  had  sprung 
in.  His  fist  caught  the  Englishman  between  the  eyes. 

Bull  as  he  was,  the  latter  reeled  backward.  The 
useless  pistol,  jerked  from  his  hand,  flew  through 
the  air  and  thudded  upon  the  ground.  An  instant 
he  clutched  at  the  air ;  then,  like  a  cat,  he  was  on  his 
feet,  launching  forward  to  meet  Jack's  assault. 

In  England  boxing  was  in  tremendous  favor,  and 
even  in  America,  prone  to  more  violent  methods,  it 
was  in  high  esteem.  Rich  and  poor,  peer  and  peas- 
ant, alike  prided  themselves  on  their  strength  and 
quickness  in  feint  and  blow.  Prize  fighters  were  hon- 
ored, not  merely  by  the  rabble  but  by  those  who  held 
themselves  to  be  the  salt  of  the  earth.  Brito  had 
fought  many  a  time,  both  for  anger  and  for  pleas- 
ure. Jack,  less  quarrelsome  and  less  fond  of  the 
sport,  was  yet  well  trained  in  the  use  of  his  fists. 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  191 

Furiously  the  two  men  crashed  together,  Brito 
striving  to  crush  his  foe  beneath  his  greater  weight, 
and  Jack  striving  vainly  to  gain  room  for  a  clean, 
straight  stroke.  Swift  and  brutal  came  the  blows, 
short  half-arm  jabs,  cruel  and  punishing.  Once 
Jack  was  beaten  to  his  knees,  but  he  struggled  up, 
striking  blindly  but  so  furiously  that  Brito  stag- 
gered back. 

But  for  the  moment  Jack  had  no  breath  left  to 
follow  up  his  advantage  and  Brito  none  to  renew 
the  assault.  Face  to  face  they  stood,  with  blood- 
streaked  faces,  gaping  mouths,  and  sobbing  chests, 
each  glad  of  the  respite  but  each  determined  that  it 
should  not  be  for  long. 

For  an  instant  Brito's  eyes  wandered  about  the 
ground,  seeking  a  weapon;  for  an  instant  Jack's 
eyes  followed  the  Englishman's  and  in  that  instant 
he  saw  Alagwa  where  she  lay  crumbled  against  the 
rampart.  A  yell  of  fury  burst  from  his  lips  and  he 
sprang  forward.  Brito  saw  him  coming  and  threw 
his  weight  into  a  blow  that  would  have  ended  the 
fight  if  it  had  gone  home.  But  it  did  not  go  home ! 
Jack  dodged  beneath  it  and  drove  his  right  with 
deadly  force  against  the  other's  thick  neck.  Then 
as  Brito  swung  round,  giddy  from  the  impact,  Jack 
struck  him  on  the  chin  and  sent  him  reeling  back  a « 
'dozen  feet,  clawing  at  the  air,  till  he  stumbled 
across  the  body  of  an  Indian  and  fell  upon  his  back. 

Jack  bent  above  him,  fist  drawn  back.     "  Sur- 


192  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

render,"  he  panted.    "  Surrender  1    Or  by  God " 

"  Not  yet ! "  Brito's  outflung  hand  had  closed 
upon  a  hatchet  that  had  fallen  from  the  dead  brave's 
hand.  Upward  he  hurled  it  with  despairing  fury. 

Whether  directed  by  chance  or  by  skill  the  cast 
went  home.  The  head  of  the  whirling  axe  struck 
Jack  squarely  upon  his  forehead,  just  at  the  roots 
of  his  hair.  He  gasped,  wavered,  flung  up  his 
hands,  and  sank  down. 

Something  snapped  in  Alagwa's  brain.  The 
night-mare  numbness  that  had  held  her  vanished. 
Together  mind  and  straining  body  burst  the  bonds 
that  had  held  them.  Mad  with  fury  she  sprang  to 
her  feet  and  hurled  herself  at  Brito,  striking  blindly 
with  bare,  harmless,  open  hands.  No  thought  of  self 
was  in  her  mind.  Jack  was  dead ;  she  thought  only 
to  avenge  him. 

Brito  was  scrambling  to  his  feet.  Even  half 
risen,  his  great  bulk  towered  above  the  girl's 
slender  form.  But  so  sudden  and  so  furious  was 
her  assault  that  he  tottered  backward.  But  as  he 
reeled  he  clutched  at  her  left  wrist  and  held  it, 
dragging  her  with  him,  striking,  struggling,  fight- 
ing like  a  trapped  wolverene.  He  reached  for  the 
other  wrist,  but  before  he  could  grasp  it,  the  girl  set 
Jier  knee  inside  of  his  and  tripped  him,  hurling  him 
headlong.  But  his  grip  upon  her  did  not  relax, 
and  together  on  the  ground  the  two  rolled,  des- 
perately locked.  Had  Brito  been  less  exhausted 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  193 

and  the  girl  less  maddened  the  end  would  have  come 
instantly;  only  her  fury  postponed  it. 

Suddenly  her  chance  came.  Beneath  her  strain- 
ing body  she  felt  a  weapon  and  caught  it  up.  It 
was  Brito's  pistol.  As  she  raised  it  Brito  snatched 
for  it.  His  grip  fell  short  and,  overbalanced,  he 
left  his  head  unguarded.  Before  he  could  recover 
Alagwa  had  struck  him  across  the  forehead  with 
the  heavy  barrel  and  had  torn  herself  free. 

Like  a  cat  she  sprang  to  her  feet.  But  Brito  was 
up,  too,  nearly  as  quickly ;  and  she  had  no  strength 
left  to  renew  her  assault. 

For  a  moment  the  Englishman  stood,  rocking 
slowly  to  and  fro,  striving  to  clear  his  eyes  of  the 
blood  that  was  trickling  from  the  furrow  the  pistol 
had  traced  across  his  forehead.  Then  he  gave  a 
great  shout: 

"  Estelle ! "  he  cried.  "  Estelle !  Damme !  It's 
Estelle."  He  paused,  staring.  Then  he  laughed 
hoarsely.  "  Plucky,  too !  "  he  cried.  "  A  true  Tel- 
fair,  fit  mate  for  a  man."  He  flung  out  his  hands. 
"To  me!  Little  one!"  he  cried.  "To  me!  I 
liked  you  when  I  saw  you  first.  But  now — By  God ! 
You're  a  Valkyrie,  a  Boadicea.  To  think  of  your 
daring  to  fight  with  me.  You !  A  woman  and  a  hop- 
o'-my  thumb.  By  God !  I  love  you  for  it.  Come 
to  me."  He  stumbled  forward. 

Alagwa  sprang  away.  As  she  did  so  her  hand 
touched  the  powder-horn  that  had  clung  to  her  belt 

13 

c 


194  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

through  all  that  furious  encounter.  Her  bullet- 
pouch,  too,  was  in  place.  Lithely  she  dodged 
Brito's  rush,  and  as  he  blundered  past  she  poured 
a  charge  of  powder  into  the  mouth  of  her  pistol 
and  rammed  home  the  wad. 

Brito  saw  and  read  her  motion.  The  man's  pluck 
was  good,  for  he  lurched  toward  her,  laughing. 
"  No !  No !  No !  Estelle !  "  he  cried.  «  Don't  shoot ! 
You've  lost  one  kinsman  already" — he  glanced  to- 
wards Jack's  silent  form — "  and  you  can't  afford  to 
lose  another.  Come !  Lady !  Cousin !  Come  to  me. 
I'll  take  you  to  England.  I'll  make  you  queen  of 
them  all " — He  broke  off.  Alagwa  had  forced 
home  the  bullet  and  had  primed  the  pan.  Now  she 
raised  the  pistol. 

Brito  saw  it  and  changed  his  note.  "  D —  you, 
you  hussy  !  "  he  yelled.  "  I'll  choke " 

The  pistol  roared  and  he  reeled  back,  clutching 
at  his  side.  Then  he  crashed  down. 

For  an  instant  Alagwa  stared  at  him,  noting  the 
red  stain  that  was  widening  on  his  shirt  beneath  the 
heart.  Then  she  let  the  pistol  fall  and  turned  away. 
Staggeringly  she  made  her  way  to  Jack's  side  and 
sank  down  beside  him.  Into  his  torn  hunting  shirt 
she  slipped  her  hand  till  it  lay  above  his  heart. 

No  faintest  throb  rewarded  her.  No  quiver  of 
lip  or  eye  negatived  the  red  wound  upon  his  brow. 
Silently  her  head  fell  forward.  It  was  all  over. 
Jack  was  dead.  Without  a  gasp  hope  died. 


A1AGWA    SHOOTS   CAPTAIN    BHITO 


CHAPTER  XV 

LONG  Alagvra  sat,  staring  into  the  face  of  her 
dead.  She  knew  now,  for  once  and  ever 
more  that  he  was  her  dead,  hers,  hers,  hers 
alone.  A  week  before  she  had  not  known  that  he 
existed.  Four  days  before  she  had  thought  she 
hated  him  for  the  woe  his  people  had  inflicted  upon 
hers.  Two  days  before  she  had  offered  to  fight 
with  him  to  the  death,  but  she  had  told  herself  that 
she  had  done  this  because  he  was  facing  her  foes 
as  well  as  his.  Now,  only  a  moment  before,  she  had 
shot  down  her  British  kinsman,  the  ally  of  her  peo- 
ple, in  vengeance  for  his  death.  In  dull  wonder 
her  thoughts  traversed  step  by  step  the  path  that 
had  brought  her  to  this  end,  until  in  one  blinding 
flash  of  enlightenment,  she  read  her  own  soul.  He 
was  hers,  her  mate,  created  for  her  by  Gitche- 
manitou  the  Mighty,  foreordained  for  her  in  the 
dim  chaos  out  of  which  the  world  was  shaped. 

And  he  was  dead!  He  had  never  known  her  for 
what  she  was,  had  never  thought  to  call  her  wife. 
To  him  she  had  been  a  comrade  only,  not  bone  off 
his  bone  and  flesh  of  his  flesh.  And  yet  she  knew 
that  he  had  held  her  dear;  day  by  day  she  had 
felt  that  he  was  holding  her  dearer  and  dearer.  If 

she  had  been  granted  time 

195 


196  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

But  she  had  not  been  granted  time,  for  he  was 
dead.  And  she  was  left  desolate.  She  could  not 
even  follow  him  to  the  Happy  Hunting  Grounds, 
for  they  were  for  men,  not  women. 

Suddenly  a  thought  came  to  her.  She  remem- 
bered that  she  was  dressed  as  a  boy  and  that  her 
costume  had  deceived  all  the  men  who  had  seen  her. 
Might  she  not  deceive  also  the  guardians  who  waited 
at  the  entrance  of  the  trail  that  led  to  the  Hunt- 
ing Grounds?  If  she  faced  them  boldly,  manfully, 
as  a  warrior  should,  might  she  not  win  her  way 
past  them  to  Jack's  side?  There  would  be  no  sharp- 
eyed  women  there  to  spy  her  out,  and  once  within 
she  would  stay  forever.  Never  by  word  or  by  sign 
would  she  betray  herself;  always  she  would  remain 
Jack's  little  comrade.  No  one  would  ever  guess. 

She  would  try  it.  Her  hand  dropped  to  her  belt 
and  closed  on  the  slender  hilt  of  the  hunting  knife 
that  hung  there.  Then  it  slowly  fell  away. 

Before  she  played  the  man  and  started  on  the 
long,  dark  trail,  she  would  be  very  woman.  The 
moments  that  life  had  denied  her,  that  the  Happy 
Hunting  Grounds  might  ever  deny  her,  she  would 
steal  now,  now,  from  the  cold  hand  of  death  himself. 

Desperately  she  searched  the  features  of  her 
dead.  They  were  pinched  and  pallid  with  the  awful 
pallor  of  death.  Lower  and  lower  she  bent,  yearn- 
ing over  him,  more  of  the  mother  than  of  the  sweet- 
heart in  her  mien.  Gently  she  kissed  his  forehead, 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  197 

his  eyelids,  his  cheeks,  his  firm,  bold  mouth,  taking 
toll  where  she  would,  bride's  kiss  and  widow's  kiss 
in  one.  Again  and  again  she  pressed  her  warm 
lips  to  his  till  beneath  her  caress  they  seemed  to 
warm,  reddening  to  tints  of  life. 

Suddenly  his  lips  twitched  and  his  eyes  opened. 
"  Bob !  "  he  muttereH.  Then  once  more  his  eyelids 
drooped. 

Alagwa  screamed,  short  and  sharp.  He  was  not 
dead.  Jack  was  not  dead.  Gitchemanitou  the 
Mighty  had  given  him  back  to  her.  Hers  it  was  to 
keep  him. 

Gently  she  laid  his  head  upon  the  ground  and 
sprang  up.  One  of  Cato's  pans  lay  close  at  hand; 
she  snatched  it  and  raced  to  the  river  down  the 
protected  way  dug  seventeen  years  before  by  Gen- 
eral Wayne. 

Soon  she  was  back,  bringing  a  mass  of  sopping 
water  plants.  Over  the  red  wound  on  Jack's  fore- 
head she  bound  them. 

Under  her  touch  Jack's  eyes  reopened.  But  they 
did  not  meet  her  anxious  gaze;  they  rolled  help- 
lessly, uncontrolled  by  his  will.  His  lips  formed 
words,  but  they  were  thick  and  harsh.  "  Where — 
where — No,  he's  killed.  I — saw — him — fall.  He 
— he — Bob !  Bob  !  "  His  voice  ran  up  in  a  shriek. 

Alagwa  bent  till  her  face  almost  touched  his. 
"  I'm  here,  Jack,"  she  breathed.  "  Can't  you  see 
me?" 


198  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

The  lad's  eyes  snapped  into  focus.  For  an  in- 
stant they  brightened  with  recognition;  then  they 
fell  away.  But  he  had  recognized  her.  "  I  thought 
you — were  dead,"  he  muttered.  "  I  saw  you  fall. 
I — I  tried  to  kill  him  for  that — more  than  for  all 
else.  But — but "  his  words  wandered. 

The  color  flowed  into  Alagwa's  cheeks.  Her  eyes 
were  very  soft.  "  I  thought  you  were  dead,  too,'* 
she  murmured.  "  But  we  are  both  alive — both 
alive !  "  Her  voice  thrilled  with  wonder. 

Jack's  fingers  fumbled  till  they  found  the  girl's 
free  hand  and  closed  upon  it.  "  You've  been  a  bully 
little  comrade,"  he  muttered.  "  Bully  little  com- 
rade !  Bully  little  com "  His  voice  died  weakly 

away.  His  eyes  closed  for  a  moment,  then  opened 
again.  "  Cato  ?  "  he  questioned. 

Alagwa  straightened.  She  had  forgotten  Cato 
since  she  had  seen  him  go  down  beneath  the  Indian's 
tomahawk.  Anxiously  she  looked  about  her.  Then, 
abruptly,  she  started,  stiffening  like  a  wild  thing  at 
sight  of  the  hunter. 

Not  a  score  of  feet  away  sat  Brito,  clutching  his 
wounded  side,  glaring  at  her  with  blood-shot  eyes. 
Her  hand  fell  to  the  knife  in  her  belt,  and  she 
gathered  her  feet  beneath  her,  every  muscle  tense, 
ready  to  spring. 

For  a  moment  the  picture  held,  then  Jack's 
fingers  tightened  on  her  other  hand,  holding  her 
back. 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  199 

"What  is  it?  What  is  it?"  he  mumbled, 
piteously.  "  Wrhat  is  it?  " 

"  Nothing.  It's  nothing !  "  Alagwa's  voice  was 
low  and  soothing.  Brito  seemed  severely  wounded. 
He  was  not  attempting  to  approach.  Perhaps  he 
could  not.  She  leaned  forward  slightly,  so  as  to 
cut  off  Jack's  line  of  sight.  He  must  not  know. 
Not  till  the  last  possible  moment  must  he  know. 
Forward  she  leaned,  features  rigid,  teeth  locked  be- 
hind set  jaws,  nostrils  distended,  staring  Brito  in 
the  face. 

The  Englishman  tried  to  meet  her  eyes  but  his 
own  dropped.  He  tried  to  rise,  but  his  strength 
failed  him.  Then  he  began  to  edge  himself  back- 
ward, eyes  fixed  on  the  girl.  Soon  he  reached  the 
glacis  and  dragged  himself  slowly  up  it.  At  the 
top  he  paused,  a  momentary  flash  of  his  former 
spirit  burning  in  his  eyes. 

"  Bravo !  Little  one !  "  he  faltered,  so  feebly  that 
the  girl  could  scarcely  hear  the  words,  "  Bravo ! 
.You're  a  true  Telfair.  I  wanted  you  before  for 
your  money.  Now  I  want  you  for  yourself.  You're 
mine  and  I'll  have  you.  I'll  have  you,  understand? 
Sooner  or  later  I'll  have  you.  Remember ! "  His 
clutch  upon  the  crest  of  the  glacis  loosened  and  he 
slipped  out  of  sight. 

Alagwa  stared  at  the  spot  where  he  had  vanished, 
listening  to  the  thudding  of  the  soft  earth  into  the 
ditch  beneath  him.  Toward  what  refuge  he  was 


200  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

striving  she  did  not  know,  but  she  was  sure  that  he 
could  not  reach  it  on  his  own  feet.  If  all  of  his 
party  were  slain,  and  she  did  not  doubt  that  they 
were,  he  could  escape  only  by  water.  Both  the 
Auglaize  and  the  Maumee  below  the  fort  were 
navigable  for  small  boats,  and  if  Brito  and  his  com- 
rades had  come  in  one,  he  might  regain  it  and  float 
down  the  Maumee,  possibly  to  safety. 

Should  she  let  him  go?  No  pity  was  in  her  heart. 
The  frontier  was  grim;  it  translated  itself  into 
primitive  emotions,  taking  no  account  of  the  shad- 
ings  of  civilization  or  of  the  blending  of  good  and 
evil  that  inheres  in  every  man.  Those  brought  up 
amid  its  environment  hated  their  enemies  and  loved 
their  friends ;  they  took  no  middle  course.  Brito 
was  an  enemy  and  Alagwa  hated  him.  All  her  life 
she  had  been  taught  to  let  no  wounded  enemy  escape. 
Brief  had  been  her  acquaintance  with  the  English- 
man, but  it  had  been  long  enough  to  show  her  what 
manner  of  man  he  was.  Should  she  let  him  go  to 
come  back  again,  perhaps  to  destroy  the  thread 
of  life  that  still  remained  in  the  helpless  man  by  her 
side.  Or  should  she  finish  the  work  she  had  begun 
and  make  Jack  safe  against  at  least  this  deadly  foe. 
Feverishly  she  fingered  the  hilt  of  her  knife. 

As  she  hesitated  Jack's  plaintive  voice  came 
again.  "  Who's  talking "  he  mumbled.  "  I — I 
can't  see.  I  can't  think.  I — I — Bob !  Bob !  " 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  201 

"  I'm  here,  Jack ! "  Alagwa's  fingers  tightened 
upon  his. 

Over  the  lad's  face  came  a  look  of  peace.  "  Some- 
thing's happened  to  me,"  he  breathed.  "  But  you'll 
stay  with  me,  won't  you,  Bob  ?  " 

"  Yes !  Yes !  I'll  stay  with  you.  Don't  fear. 
I'll  never  leave  you." 

*'  Good.  .  .  .  I — I  seem  weak  somehow.  Did 
somebody  hit  me?  .  .  .  I  want  to  get  up.  I 
must  get  up.  Help  me."  The  lad  caught  at  her 
arm  and  tried  to  pull  himself  up. 

Alagwa  did  not  hesitate.  She  was  sure  that,  for 
a  time  at  least,  he  would  far  better  lie  flat  upon 
the  ground.  "  Don't  get  up  !  "  she  commanded. 
"  Lie  still.  You  have  been  wounded.  Very  nearly 
have  you  taken  the  dark  trail  to  the  Land  of  the 
Hereafter.  You  must  lie  still."  Her  voice  was 
imperative. 

Jack  yielded  to  it.  "  All  right ! "  he  sighed. 
"  But— But  I  want  Cato." 

Once  more  Alagwa  remembered  the  negro.  She 
stood  up  and  looked  about  her. 

The  dawn  was  long  past.  The  sun  had  risen 
above  the  tree  tops  and  was  flooding  the  fort  with 
yellow  glory,  making  plain  the  havoc  that  ihe  brief 
fight  had  wrought,  searching  out  the  tumbled  dead 
and  crowning  their  broken  forms  with  pitfful  gold. 
Prone  they  lay,  grotesquely  tossed,  grim  with  the 
majesty  of  death.  Round  them  life  bourgeoned, 


202  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

careless  of  their  fate.  The  waters  rippled,  the  wind 
whispered  overhead,  the  birds  chorused  in  the  tree 
tops,  the  jewelled  flies,  already  gathering,  buzzed 
in  the  glowing  air.  Far  down  the  Maumee,  on  the , 
sunlit  water,  a  black  spot  shaped  itself  for  a  moment, 
and  then  was  gone.  Alagwa  saw  it  and  guessed 
that  it  was  Captain  Brito  and  his  boat. 

Cato  was  lying  face  down  where  he  had  fallen. 
Across  his  body  lay  that  of  the  warrior  who  had 
stricken  him  down.  Close  at  hand  lay  two  other 
braves,  their  well-oiled  bodies  and  shaven  heads 
glistening  in  the  sun.  Alagwa  did  not  even  look  at 
them;  they  were  not  friends — they  were  outlaws — 
outlaws  suborned  by  Brito  to  attack  Jack  because  he 
had  been  in  search  of  her.  The  Shawnees  were  still 
her  friends — she  was  still  true  to  Tecumseh.  But 
these  were  private  foes.  She  had  been  trained  in  a 
hard  school  and  their  deaths  affected  her  no  more 
than  would  those  of  so  many  wild  beasts. 

She  bent  over  Cato.  His  posture,  to  her  trained 
eyes,  spoke  eloquently  of  death.  Nevertheless,  she 
would  see.  Panting,  for  the  fight  had  torn  open  the 
half-healed  wound  upon  her  leg,  she  dragged  the 
dead  Indian  away  and  gently  fingered  the  long,  broad 
gash  that  ran  across  the  negro's  head.  Blood  from 
it  had  stiffened  his  wool  into  a  mat  of  gore.  The 
hatchet  had  struck  slantingly  or  had  been  deflected, 
but  it  had  cut  deep.  Never  had  Alagwa  seen  such 
a  wound  upon  the  head  of  a  living  man.  Sorrow- 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  203 

fully  she  stared  at  it,  for  Cato  had  been  kind  to  her. 
At  last,  hopelessly  but  determinedly  she  rolled  his 
body  over  and  placed  her  hand  above  his  heart. 

It  was  beating,  slowly  but  strongly. 

Amazed,  the  girl  sprang  up.  Heedless  of  her  in- 
jured leg  she  raced  to  the  river  and  back  again  and 
poured  the  cooling  water  on  his  head,  washing  away 
the  blood  that  had  run  down  his  forehead  and  had 
filled  his  eyes. 

Instantly  Cato  gasped  and  groaned.  "  Here ! 
You  Mandy,"  he  protested.  "  You  quit  dat !  Don't 
you  go  flingin'  no  more  of  Mars'  Telfair's  plates  at 
me.  Massa  ain't  gwine  to  stand  havin'  his  plates 
busted  that  a-way,  no,  he  ain't,  not  by  no  nigger 
living.  You  hear  me." 

Alagwa  heard  but  she  did  not  understand.  The 
negro  accent  and  forms  of  speech  were  still  partly 
beyond  her.  But  she  knew  that  Cato  was  alive  and 
she  dashed  what  was  left  of  the  water  into  his  blood- 
streaked  face. 

The  shock  completed  her  work.  Intelligence 
snapped  back  into  the  negro's  eyes  and  he  sat  up. 
"  Lord  !  Massa !  "  he  cried.  "  What's  done  happen? 
Whar  dem  Injuns  go?  Whar's  Mars'  Jack?  " 

"  Mr.  Jack's  badly  hurt.  Very  near  he  go  to  die. 
But  Gitchemanitou  save  him.  You  are  wounded, 
too.  I  thought  you  were  dead." 

Cato  fingered  the  cut  upon  his  head.  Then  he 
grinned.  "Lord!"  he  exclaimed.  "Dat  Injun 


204  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

oughter  knowed  better  than  to  hit  a  nigger  on  the 
head.  But  " — his  grin  faded — "  but  whar  Mars' 
Jack?  " 

"  Over  yonder !  "  Alagwa  gestured  with  her  head. 
"  But  wait.  Let  me  wash  and  bind  up  your  head. 
Sit  still." 

Much  against  his  will  Cato  waited  while  the  girl's 
deft  fingers  washed  away  the  caked  blood  and  bound 
a  poultice  of  healing  leaves  across  the  gaping  cut. 
Then  he  took  the  hand  that  she  offered  and 
scrambled  to  his  feet  and  tried  to  make  his  way  to 
Jack's  recumbent  form. 

But  at  the  first  step  he  limped  and  groaned. 
"  Lord !  "  he  muttered.  "  I  done  bust  my  feet  mighty 
bad  somehow.  But  I  gwine  to  git  to  Mars'  Jack. 
Yes,  suh,  I  certainly  am." 

With  many  groans  he  made  his  way  across  the 
ground  to  Jack's  side.  "  Mars'  Jack !  Mars' 
Jack!"  he  cried.  "You  ain't  dead,  is  you?" 

The  sound  of  his  voice  roused  Jack  and  he  opened 
his  eyes.  Thankfully  Alagwa  saw  that  he  made  no 
attempt  to  rise.  "  Hello,  Cato !  "  he  mumbled.  "  Is 
that  you.  No,  I'm  not  dead.  I'm  all  right.  How 
about  you,  Cato?  " 

*'  I'se  all  right,  Mars'  Jack,  'cep'n  that  my  feet 
hurts  mighty  bad.  Dat  Injun  hit  me  a  whack  over 
the  head,  and  that  hurts.  But  seems  like  my  feet 
hurts  wusser." 

Jack's  eyes  twinkled.     "  You    must    have    been 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  205 

standing  on  a  stone  when  that  Indian  hit  you  over 
the  head,"  he  said.  "  I  reckon  he  drove  your  feet 
down  on  the  stone  mighty  hard." 

Jack  laughed  weakly.  Then  suddenly  an  expres- 
sion of  terror  came  into  his  face  and  his  whole  form 
seemed  to  shrink  and  crumble.  When  Alagwa 
reached  his  side  he  was  unconscious. 

Long  but  vainly  the  girl  worked  over  him.  He 
did  not  revive  and  an  icy  cold  hand  seemed  to  close 
about  her  heart. 

From  her  childhood  she  had  been  familiar  with 
wounds.  With  the  Shawnees,  as  with  most  other 
Indians,  it  was  a  point  of  honor  to  leave  no  wounded 
friend  upon  the  battlefield.  At  whatever  cost,  for 
whatever  distance,  they  brought  home  all  who  sur- 
vived the  sharp  deadly  struggles  of  the  day.  Not 
once  but  many  times  Alagwa  had  bound  up  wounds 
and  had  cared  for  injured  warriors.  Jack's  con- 
dition had  not  at  first  seemed  strange  to  her.  She 
had  supposed  him  only  dazed  from  the  blow  he  had 
received  and  needing  only  a  brief  rest  to  regain  his 
strength.  But  now,  abruptly,  there  flashed  into  her 
mind  the  memory  of  two  warriors,  brought  home 
from  a  foray,  who  bore  no  visible  wounds  but  who 
were  yet  wrecked  in  body  and  in  mind.  Like  Jack 
they  had  been  struck  upon  the  head.  Like  him  they 
had  revived  and  had  seemed  to  be  gathering 
strength.  Then  abruptly  they  had  collapsed  and 
had  lain  feebly  quiescent,  dazed,  with  wandering  lips 


206  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

and  eyes,  for  weeks  and  months  before  they  died. 
She  did  not  know  what  the  white  men  called  this, 
but  she  knew  the  thing  itself. 

Was  Jack  to  be  like  this?  It  could  not  be! 
Passionately  her  heart  cried  out  against  it.  And 
yet — and  yet — even  thus  she  was  glad,  glad,  that 
Gitchemanitou  had  given  him  back  to  her.  Only  let 
him  live,  let  him  live,  and 

But  he  could  not  live  where  he  was.  The  ruined 
fort  was  a  point  of  extreme  danger.  One  war  party 
bound  for  the  north  had  already  passed  it  on  their 
way  down  the  Auglaize,  and  at  any  moment  another 
might  follow.  None  would  pass  the  ruins  of  the 
ancient  fort  without  visiting  it,  even  if  no  sign  of 
the  recent  struggle  were  visible  from  the  water  or 
from  the  trail  along  the  bank.  If  Jack  was  to  be 
ill  for  a  long  time,  she  must  get  him  back  to  Fort 
Wayne. 

And  she  must  do  it  all.  Cato  was  a  splendid  serv- 
ant but  useless  so  far  as  initiative  was  concerned. 
On  her  and  her  alone  the  responsibility  must  rest. 
Desperately  she  looked  around,  seeking  inspiration. 

WTiile  she  had  worked  over  Jack  the  sun  had 
mounted  higher  and  higher.  The  tall  forest  trees 
that  ringed  the  clearing  shimmered  in  the  golden 
downpour,  the  fretted  tracery  of  their  branches 
quivering  against  the  burnished  vault  of  the  sky. 
The  forest  creatures  had  grown  used  to  the  presence 
of  men  and  were  going  about'  the  business  of  their 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  207 

lives  unafraid.  A  huge  red  squirrel  scurried  up  one 
of  the  few  remaining  palisades  of  the  ancient  cir- 
cuit and  sat  upon  its  top,  chattering.  The  water 
in  the  river  rippled  incessantly  as  fish  or  turtle  or 
snake  came  and  went.  Great  bullfrogs  croaked  on 
the  banks.  From  every  tuft  of  grass  and  every  rock 
and  log  rose  the  shrill  stridulation  of  insects. 
Gorgeous  butterflies  in  black  and  gold  and  white 
fluttered  about  the  stricken  field.  The  mule  and  the 
two  horses  were  uninjured  and  were  cropping  the 
sweet  grass,  heedless  of  the  fate  that  had  overtaken 
their  masters. 

But  more  than  horses  was  needed.  Jack  could 
not  ride  and  even  if  he  could  cling  to  the  saddle  he 
would  do  so  at  the  peril  of  his  life. 

There  was  nothing  to  do  but  to  make  a  travois — 
a  structure  of  dragging  poles  by  which  the  Indians 
transported  their  sick  and  wounded,  their  tents,  and 
household  goods.  Calling  Cato  to  saddle  the  horses, 
she  picked  up  the  hatchet  that  had  split  the  negro's 
scalp,  and  hurried  out  of  the  fort  to  return  a  mo- 
ment later  with  two  long  straight  poles.  These, 
with  Cato's  help,  she  firmly  bound,  butt  up,  on  either 
side  of  her  horse,  which  she  knew  to  be  the  gentler 
of  the  two,  then  lashed  together  the  long  flexible 
ends  that  trailed  out  behind.  Backward  and  for- 
ward, across  the  angle  between,  she  wove  the  rope 
that  had  bound  the  paclc.  Upon  this  network  she 
fastened  blankets  till  the  whole  had  become  a  sort 


208  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

of  pointed  hammock,  with  sloping  flexible  sides,  one 
end  of  which  rested  on  the  ground  while  the  other 
sloped  upward  ending  well  out  of  reach  of  the  horse's 
heels.  By  the  time  she  had  finished  Cato  had  packed 
the  camp  equipment  on  the  back  of  the  mule. 

With  some  difficulty  the  two  dragged  Jack  upon 
the  travois.  Then  Alagwa  took  the  bridle  of  the 
horse. 

"  I  lead,"  she  said.  "  You  ride  other  horse." 
Willingly  the  negro  climbed  to  the  saddle.  "  I'se 
mighty  glad  to,"  he  declared,  gratefully.  "  Lor', 
Massa,  if  you  knowed  How  my  feet  hurt !  I  reckon 
Mars'  Jack  was  right.  I  must  ha'  been  standin' 
on  a  rock." 

Four  days  later — for  it  took  twice  as  long  to  go 
from  Fort  Defiance  to  Fort  Wayne  as  it  had  taken 
to  go  from  Fort  Wayne  to  Defiance — Alagwa  stood 
in  Peter  Bondie's  house  in  the  room  that  had  served 
her  for  a  night,  watching  with  dumb  fear-filled  eyes 
as  the  surgeon  from  the  fort  straightened  up  from 
his  long  inspection  of  Jack's  exhausted  form. 

"  Concussion  of  the  brain,"  he  said,  at  last. 
"  He'll  get  well,  but  he'll  be  ill  for  weeks  and 
probably  for  months." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  drama  of  the  war  was  unfolding.     The 
first  act  was  filled  with  martial  music  and 
with  the  tramp    of    armed    men  marching 
northward  to  wrest  from  the  British  king  the  re- 
mainder of  his  great  American  empire  and  to  extend 
the  bounds  of  the  United  States  to  the  foot  of  the 
aurora  borealis.    War  had  been  declared  in  the  mid- 
dle of  June  and  the  late  summer  of  1812  saw  three 
armies  afoot,  one  at  the  western  end  of  Lake  Erie, 
one  at  Niagara,  and  one  on  Lake  Champlain. 

The  first  clash  of  arms  came  in  the  west.  Burn- 
ing with  zeal,  General  Hull  and  his  soldiers  cut  a 
road  through  the  Black  Swamp,  occupied  Detroit, 
and  early  in  July  crossed  into  Canada.  The  country 
rang  with  the  news  of  their  triumphant  advance. 
The  country  did  not  realize,  though  it  was  soon 
to  do  so,  that  for  years  the  British  in  Canada  had 
been  providing  against  this  very  eventuality,  and 
had  been  building  a  red  bulwark  against  attack. 
For  years  they  had  been  winning  the  good  will  of  the 
Indians  with  presents,  had  been  cajoling  them  with 
soft  words,  and  had  been  providing  them  with  arms 
and  ammunition.  And  when  the  war  came  they  had 
their  reward.  While  Hull  was  marching  so  gaily 
forward  thousands  of  savages  were  closing  in  be- 
14  209 


210  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

hind  him,  surrounding  him  with  a  red  cordon  that 
he  was  never  to  break.  At  first  they  moved  slowly, 
lacking  a  white  leader.  Soon  they  were  to  find  one 
in  General  Brock  and  the  Americans  were  to  realize 
too  late  that  they  had  to  meet  not  merely  a  hand- 
ful of  British  and  Canadians  but  a  horde  of  the 
fiercest  foes  that  any  land  could  produce,  some  of 
whom,  like  Tecumseh,  hoped  to  establish  an  Indian 
kingdom  whose  barriers  would  hold  back  the  Ameri- 
cans forever,  but  most  of  whom  fought  merely  for 
the  spoils  of  war,  secure  in  the  British  promise  to 
give  them  a  free  hand  and  to  protect  them  against 
any  ultimate  vengeance  like  that  which  had  befallen 
them  when  they  had  risen  in  the  past. 

All  this,  however,  lay  in  the  womb  of  the  future 
in  July  and  early  August,  when  Jack  was  slowly 
fighting  his  way  back  to  health.  The  wound  on  his 
head  healed  rapidly,  disappearing  even  before  that 
on  Cato's  thick  skull,  and  by  the  first  of  August  he 
had  recovered  much  of  his  physical  strength  though 
little  of  his  mental  powers.  One  day  he  would  look 
out  upon  the  world  with  sane  eyes,  gladdening 
Alagwa's  sore  heart  with  the  hope  that  her  vigil 
was  nearing  its  end ;  the  next  day  some  trifle,  some 
slight  excitement,  even  some  memory,  would  strike 
him  (down,  and  for  days  he  would  toss  in  delirium 
or  lie  in  a  state  of  coma  that  seemed  like  death 
itself.  It  needed  all  the  cheeriness  that  Fantine 
could  muster  and  all  the  assurances  that  Major 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  211 

Stickney  and  Captain  Wells  could  offer  to  sustain 
the  girl's  hope  that  he  would  ever  be  himself  again. 

Meanwhile  information  that  the  war  was  not 
going  well  for  the  Americans  began  to  trickle  in  to 
Fort  Wayne  or,  rather,  to  the  white  men  adjacent 
to  it  who  enjoyed  the  confidence  of  the  Indians. 

Owing  to  his  Miami  wife,  Peter  Bondie's  affilia- 
tions with  the  Indians  were  close  and  he  received 
early  news  of  all  that  took  place  at  the  front.  Be- 
fore any  one  else  at  Fort  Wayne  he  knew  that 
Hull  had  been  driven  back  from  Canada  to  Detroit. 
He  learned  almost  instantly  when  Hull's  lines  of 
communication  were  broken  and  the  small  force 
that  was  bringing  cattle  and  other  food  to  his  aid 
was  halted  at  the  River  Raisin,  and  he  was  kept 
well  informed  as  the  lines  about  Hull  himself  grew 
closer  and  closer.  Lieutenant  Hibbs  and  the  gar- 
rison at  the  fort,  meanwhile,  seemed  to  dwell  in  a 
fool's  paradise. 

The  first  publicly  admitted  news  that  all  was 
not  going  well  was  that  of  the  surrender  of  the 
fifty-seven  men  who  garrisoned  Fort  Michili- 
mackinac,  far  to  the  northward.  This,  however, 
made  little  impression.  Fort  Michilimackinac  was 
unimportant  and  was  isolated;  its  surrender 
amounted  to  nothing.  The  next  day,  however,  word 
was  received  from  General  Hull  that  Fort  Dearborn, 
one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  to  the  west,  on  the  site 
where  Chicago  now  stands,  was  to  be  evacuated. 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

Lieutenant  Hibbs  was  instructed  to  consult  with 
Major  Stickney  and  Captain  Wells  and  to  devise 
some  means  by  which  the  order  could  be  safely 
transmitted  and  the  garrison  safely  withdrawn. 
The  next  day  Captain  Wells,  with  one  white  man 
and  thirty-five  supposedly  friendly  Miami  Indians, 
set  out  for  Fort  Dearborn  to  carry  the  orders. 
Even  this,  however,  did  not  disturb  the  optimism 
that  ruled  in  the  fort.  Dearborn,  like  Michili- 
mackinac,  was  isolated  and  unimportant. 

The  first  news  of  the  British  and  Indian  successes, 
slight  though  they  were,  bewildered  Alagwa.  In 
vain  she  assured  herself  that  she  ought  to  rejoice. 
Her  friends  were  winning.  They  were  driving  back 
the  braggart  Americans.  They  were  regaining  all 
that  the  slow  years  had  stolen  from  them.  Tecum- 
seh's  drama  of  a  great  Indian  kingdom  would  come 
true.  She  ought  to  be  glad!  glad!  glad! 

Nevertheless,  her  heart  sank  lower  and  lower. 
She  could  not  understand  why  this  should  be  so. 
She  was  no  friend  to  the  Americans,  she  told  her- 
self. She  loved  Jack,  but  she  hated  his  people. 
She  was  still  an  ally  to  the  Shawnees  and  to  the 
British.  She  hoped,  hoped,  hoped  that  they  would 
overwhelm  the  Americans  and  drive  them  back  for- 
ever. But  still  the  pain  at  her  heart  grew  sharper 
and  sharper. 

Moreover  her  own  actions  began  to  trouble  her. 
No  longer  could  she  keep  up  the  fiction  that  she 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  213 

was  a  prisoner.  Prisoners  do  not  bring  their  cap- 
tors back  to  the  jail  from  which  they  have  escaped. 
Moreover  she  had  conspired  against  this  very  fort, 
under  whose  protecting  walls  she  had  sought  refuge 
for  herself  and  Jack.  Gloze  the  fact  over  as  she 
might  she  could  not  wholly  put  away  the  thought 
that  her  acts  were  both  treacherous  and  ungrateful. 
Throughout  July  she  had  seen  nothing  of  the  run- 
ner and  had  heard  no  word  to  tell  that  Tecumseh 
had  received  her  message  or  haid  acted  upon  it. 
None  of  the  Miamis,  who  lived  in  the  vicinity,  had 
approached  her  with  any  word  from  the  Shawnee 
chieftain.  Early  in  August,  however,  Metea,  chief 
of  the  Pottawatomies,  who  lived  a  little  to  the  west, 
sought  her  out  and  gave  her  to  understand  that  he 
knew  who  she  was  and  to  assure  her  that  any  mes- 
sage she  wished  to  send  to  Tecumseh  would  be  trans- 
mitted. 

"  Metea  goes  to  Yondotia  (Detroit),"  he  said. 
"  Even  now  his  moccasins  are  on  his  feet  and  his 
tomahawk  in  his  belt.  Has  the  white  maiden  any 
word  to  send." 

His  words  struck  Alagwa  with  a  panic  which  she 
found  herself  unable  to  conceal.  Falteringly  she 
declared  that  she  had  no  word  to  send  other  than 
that  she  was  faithful  to  the  redmen's  cause  and 
would  help  it  all  she  could.  She  did  not  repeat  her 
message  about  the  scarcity  of  powder  at  the  fort. 
When  Metea  had  gone  she  hid  herself  and  wept. 


214  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

The  next  day,  however,  Jack  took  a  sudden  turn 
for  the  better,  and  the  girl's  joy  in  his  improvement 
drove  all  misgivings  from  her  mind. 

Once  it  had  begun  Jack's  improvement  grew 
apace.  A  week  went  by  without  sign  of  relapse. 
His  eyes  shone  with  the  light  of  reason;  his  voice 
grew  smooth;  his  figure  straightened;  almost  he 
seemed  himself  again.  The  surgeon  from  the  fort, 
however,  still  counselled  caution. 

With  returning  strength  the  lad  began  to  fret 
about  the  failure  of  his  mission  to  the  northwest  and 
to  declare  that  he  must  be  off  to  Detroit  in  search 
of  his  cousin.  In  vain  Alagwa  urged  upon  him  that 
he  must  be  fully  restored  to  health  before  he  at- 
tempted to  exert  himself,  and  in  vain  the  surgeon 
warned  him  that  any  sudden  stress,  either  mental 
or  physical,  was  likely  to  bring  about  a  relapse. 
Jack  felt  well  and  strong  and  chafed  bitterly  at  his 
inaction. 

One  day,  a  little  past  the  middle  of  August,  he 
and  Alagwa  (with  Cato  hovering  in  the  background) 
sought  temporary  refuge  from  the  Heat  beneath 
the  great  tree  before  the  door  of  the  hotel — the  tree 
whence  Alagwa  had  sounded  the  call  of  the  whip- 
poor-will  on  that  June  night  nearly  two  months  be- 
fore. 

August  had  worked  its  merciless  will  on  the  land. 
The  bare  ground  was  baked  and  hard  beaten  and 
the  turf  was  dry  as  powder.  The  brooks  that  had 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  215 

wandered  across  the  prairie  to  join  the  Maumee 
were  all  waterless.  The  air  was  heavy ;  not  a  breath 
of  wind  was  stirring.  Overhead  the  sky  quivered, 
glittering  like  a  great  brazen  bowl.  Inside  the 
hotel  the  heat  was  unbearable,  but  beneath  the  tree 
some  respite  could  be  gained. 

Jack  was  talking  of  the  one  topic  that  engrossed 
his  thoughts  in  those  days. 

"Think  of  myself!"  he  echoed,  to  Alagwa's 
pleadings.  "  I've  thought  of  myself  too  long !  I've 
got  to  think  of  that  poor  girl  now.  What  in  God's 
name  has  become  of  her  while  I  have  been  chasing 
shadows.  First  I  let  Williams  make  a  fool  of  me 
and  lead  me  out  of  my  way.  Then  I  make  a  fool 
of  myself  by  camping  for  the  night  in  the  most 
dangerous  place  in  all  the  northwest — and  get  my 
silly  head  beaten  in  to  pay  for  it.  And  now  I'm 
lying  here  idle  while  she — Good  God !  Where  is  she 
and  what  is  she  doing?  " 

Alagwa  said  nothing.  She  knew  that  by  one 
word  she  could  end  Jack's  anxiety,  and  again  and 
again  she  had  tried  to  utter  it.  But  always  it  died 
unspoken  upon  her  lips.  If  Jack  persisted  in  peril- 
ing his  life  by  starting  out  too  soon,  and  if  she 
could  stop  him  only  by  confessing  her  secret,  she 
would  confess  it.  But  she  would  not  do  so  till  the 
last  possible  moment. 

Jack  jumped  to  his  feet.  "  And  where's  Rogers  ?  " 
he  demanded.  "  What's  become  of  him?  I  told  him 


216  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

to  report  to  me  from  time  to  time.  By  heavens,  I 
won't  wait  here  much  longer !  I'm  well  now,  and  if 
that  fool  doctor  doesn't  pretty  soon  say  I  can  start, 
I'll  start  without  his  permission.  He  didn't  do  any- 
thing for  me,  anyhow.  It  was  you  who  saved  my 
life  " — he  turned  on  the  girl — "  it  was  you.  You 
bully  little  pal,  you." 

Alagwa  looked  down.  Jack's  voice  had  a  note  of 
tenderness  that  she  had  not  heard  before. 

"  Yes !  It  was  you,"  he  went  on.  "  You're  a 
hero,  whether  you  know  it  or  not.  You  won't  tell 
me  much  about  what  happened  after  Brito  struck 
me  down,  but  Cato's  told  me  a  lot.  And  apart  from 
that  you've  nursed  me  like  a  little  brick.  No  woman 
could  have  been  more  tender.  And  I  won't  forget 
it." 

Alagwa's  heart  was  singing.  She  dared  not  raise 
her  head,  lest  Jack  should  see  the  love  light  shining 
in  her  eyes  and  guess  her  secret.  Persistently  she 
looked  down. 

Then  suddenly  she  heard  Jack's  voice,  in  quite  a 
new  note.  "  By  George !  "  he  cried.  "  There  comes 
Rogers." 

Over  the  dusty  road  from  the  fort  the  old  man 
came  trotting.  When  he  saw  the  light  of  reason 
in  Jack's  eyes  his  own  lighted.  "  Dog  my  cats !  " 
he  cried.  "  But  I'm  plumb  glad  to  see  you,  Jack. 
I  been  a-lookin'  for  you  all  up  and  down  the  Maumee 
and  I  never  got  a  smell  of  you  till  I  met  that  skunk 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  217 

Williams  just  now  and  he  told  me  you  was  plumb 
crazy.  Lord!  Lord!  How  people  do  like  to  lie. 
If  they  wouldn't  talk  so  much  they  wouldn't  lie 
so  much  and " 

Jack  interrupted.  He  was  eager  to  divert  the 
old  man  to  the  missing  girl. 

Rogers  was  entirely  willing  to  be  diverted.  He 
did  not  care  what  he  talked  about  so  long  as  he 
talked. 

"  I  ain't  got  any  news  of  her,"  he  declared. 
"  She's  plumb  disappeared.  She  ain't  nowhere  about 
Wapakoneta;  that's  certain.  I  reckon  she's  gone 
north,  and  if  you  ask  me  I  reckon  she's  gone  with 
that  big  cuss  in  the  red  coat.  He's  the  sort  that 
takes  the  eyes  of  the  girls.  You  were  right  in 
's'posing  that  he  didn't  go  north  as  soon  as  Colonel 
Johnson  thought  he  did.  He  didn't  go  till  a  day 
or  two  before  I  got  to  Girty's  Town,  an*  maybe 
he  didn't  go  them.  But  he's  gone  now." 

Rogers  stopped  to  take  breath  and  Jack  nodded. 
In  telling  the  tale  of  the  attack  at  Fort  Defiance 
Alagwa  had  said  nothing  about  Brito  or  his  part 
in  the  fight,  and  Jack  had  followed  her  example. 
After  all,  the  affair  was  a  family  one  and  he  saw 
no  need  of  taking  the  people  at  Fort  Wayne  into 
his  confidence.  Even  now  he  merely  accepted 
Rogers's  opinion  and  did  not  inform  him  that  he 
knew  very  well  indeed  the  time  at  which  Brito  had 
left  the  headwaters  of  the  Auglaize. 


218  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

Rogers,  indeed,  gave  him  little  chance  to  say 
anything.  Vigorously  he  rattled  on.  "  There's  a 
letter  coming  from  Piqua  for  you,"  he  said.  "  I 
reckon  it's  from  your  home  folks.  I  saw  it  there 
and  I'd  a-brung  it,  but  I  wasn't  certain  that  I  was 
coming  here  when  I  left.  I  guess  it'll  get  here  to- 
night on  a  wagon  that's  coming.  I  guess  it's  from 
your  sweetheart." 

Jack's  face  had  lighted  up  at  the  old  man's  men- 
tion of  a  letter,  but  it  clouded  slightly  at  his  last 
words.  "Not  from  a  sweetheart,  no,"  he  declared. 
"  I  have  no  sweetheart.  I  shall  never  marry !  " 

"  Sho !  You  don't  tell  me !  "  Rogers's  eyes 
twinkled  incredulously.  "  Well !  You  got  time 
enough  to  change  your  mind.  You  ain't  like  me. 
I  got  to  hurry.  I  don't  want  to  deceive  you  none, 
so  I'll  own  up  that  I  ain't  as  young  as  I  was  once." 
He  glanced  out  of  the  corners  of  his  eyes  and  saw 
Fantine  coming  from  the  hotel  toward  the  party. 
Instantly  he  raised  his  voice  and  went  on. 

"  If  I  could  find  a  nice  woman,  somebody  that's 
big  enough  to  balance  a  little  shaver  like  me,  I 
reckon  I'd  fall  plumb  hard  in  love  with  her,"  he  de- 
clared. "  You  don't  know  no  such  a  woman  round 
about  here,  do  you  now,  Jack?  " 

Jack  did  not  answer,  for  Fantine  had  come  up. 
"  Bon  jour,  M.  Rogers,"  she  cried.  "  You  have 
been  away  long,  n'est  ce  pas?  What  do  you  talk 
about,  eh?" 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  219 

Rogers  grinned  at  her.  "  Oh !  We  was  talking 
about  gettin*  married,"  he  declared  brazenly. 
"  Jack  here  was  saying  he  was  never  goin'  to 
marry." 

Fantine  glanced  swiftly  at  Jack.  Then  out  of 
the  corner  of  her  eye  she  searched  Alagwa's  face. 
"Oh!  La!  La!  "  she  cried.  "These  men!  Truly 
they  all  of  a  muchness.  When  they  are  young  they 
all  run  after  a  pretty  face  and  if  they  lose  it  they 
think  the  world  stops.  Later  they  know  better. 
M.  Jack  will  seek  a  bride  some  day.  And  when  you 
do,  M.  Jack,  see  that  you  choose  one  who  will 
stand  at  your  side  when  you  face  the  peril,  one  who 
will  draw  the  sword  and  pistol  to  defend  you.  Do 
not  choose  some  fair  lady  who  will  faint  at  the  sight 
of  blood  and  leave  you  to  your  foes.  That  goes  not 
on  the  frontier.  Do  I  not  know  it,  me  ?  " 

Jack  stared.  There  was  a  note  in  the  voice  of 
the  light-hearted  French  woman  that  he  had  never 
heard  before.  For  a  moment  it  bewildered  him. 
Then  he  laughed. 

"  Oh !  No !  No !  "  he  cried.  "  I  want  no  such 
bride  as  that.  You  have  described  a  friend,  a  com- 
rade— yes,  that's  it,  a  good  comrade — like  my  little 
Bob  here."  He  glanced  at  Alagwa  affectionately, 
but  she  had  bowed  her  face,  and  he  could  not  see 
it.  "  But  I  would  not  choose  such  a  one  for  a 
bride,"  he  went  on.  "  I  would  never  marry  such  a 
comrade,  brave  and  helpful  though  she  might  be. 


220  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

If  I  ever  marry,  I  shall  marry  some  sweet  gentle 
lady  who  never  saw  the  frontier,  who  knows  nothing 
of  war,  who  has  tread  no  rougher  measures  than 
those  of  the  minuet.  I  want  a  bride  whom  I  can 
shield  from  the  world,  not  a  mannish  creature  who 
can  protect  me.  I  want — Good  Lord !  What's  the 
matter?  " 

Alagwa  had  sprung  to  her  feet,  gasping.  For 
a  moment  she  stood ;  then  she  turned  and  fled  to  the 
house.  Fantine  glared  at  Jack ;  her  lips  moved  but 
no  sound  came  from  them.  For  once,  the  situation 
was  beyond  her.  With  a  hopeless  gesture  she  fol- 
lowed the  girl.  Rogers  stood  staring. 

Jack  caught  at  Cato's  shoulder  and  scrambled  to 
his  feet,  his  face  was  white.  "  What — what — what " 
-he  babbled.  "Good  Lord!  What " 

Half  way  to  the  hotel  Fantine  turned.  Sh£  haid 
remembered  Jack's  condition.  "  Nom  d'un  nom !  " 
she  cried.  "  Sit  you  down,  M.  Jack.  It  is  nothing, 
nothing.  It — is  the  heat.  Never  have  I  seen  its 
like.  The  boy  is  overwrought.  I  will  calm  hiim. 
Sit  you  down  !  Do  you  want  to  fall  ill  again  ?  " 

Jack  sat  down,  not  because  Fantine's  words  satis- 
fied him,  but  because  his  strength  was  failing.  He 
leaned  against  the  tree,  staring  at  the  house  into 
which  Alagwa  had  disappeared. 

At  last  he  looked  up  at  Rogers  and  Cato.  "  I 
don't  understand,"  he  muttered.  "  I've  hurt  Bob 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  221 

some  way.  But  how  ?  I  wouldn't  hurt  him  for  the 
world.  HOTC  did  I  do  it?  How  did  I  do  it?  "  Heed- 
less of  the  others'  bewildered  answers  he  babbled  on, 
wonderingly. 

After  a  while  he  got  up  and  went  slowly  to  his 
room  and  lay  down.  An  hour  later,  when  Alagwa 
remorsefully  sought  him,  he  was  sleeping  heavily. 
Frightened  lest  this  might  mean  a  relapse,  but. not 
daring  to  awake  him,  the  girl  stole  out  of  the  room 
and  joined  the  others  at  the  table. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

EXCEPT  for  Jack  and  his  party  the  Maison 
Bondie  was  entirely  bare  of  guests.     The 
wagoners  who  made  the  place  their  home  dur- 
ing their  periodic  visits  to  Fort  Wayne  had  that  very 
morning  driven  away  to  the  south.     Others  would 
soon  arrive,  probably  on  the  morrow,  but  until  they 
came  the  Bondies  were  alone.    Rogers  had  gone,  pre- 
sumably to  the  fort.     Fantine  had  been  busy  com- 
forting Alagwa,  and  when  she  remembered  him  he 
had  disappeared. 

Perhaps  it  was  as  well,  for  as  Fantine  and  Alagwa 
and  Peter's  Miami  wife  sat  down  to  supper  Peter 
came  hurrying  in,  bringing  news  that  destroyed  the 
tastefulness  even  of  Fantine's  cooking. 

Captain  Wells  and  Captain  Heald  and  the  entire 
garrison  of  Fort  Dearborn  had  been  massacred. 
The  news  had  just  reached  the  Miami  village.  It 
had  not  yet  reached  the  fort  or  any  white  man  con- 
nected with  the  garrison — not  even  Major  Stickney 
or  the  priest  at  the  Catholic  church — and  probably 
would  not  reach  them  until  the  morrow.  But  it  was 
not  to  be  (doubted.  The  thirty-five  Miamis  who  had 
gone  with  Captain  Wells  to  help  in  the  evacuation 
of  Fort  Dearborn  were  all  back  at  their  homes.  But 
the  white  men  hail  perished. 
222 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  223 

With  bated  breath  the  Bondies  discussed  the  mas- 
sacre. They  all  knew  Captain  Wells;  the  Bondies 
had  known  him  for  twenty  years  and  Alagwa  for  a 
few  weeks  only,  but  they  all  loved  him.  Forty  years 
before,  when  a  boy,  he  had  been  captured  by  the 
Miami  Indians,  had  been  brought  up  with  them,  and 
Had  married  a  Miami  woman,  the  daughter  of  a 
chief.  Later  he  had  become  interpreter  and  agent 
for  the  United  States  and  was  supposed  to  be  in 
high  favor  with  the  Indians  of  all  tribes.  None  of 
his  associations,  however,  had  availed  to  save  him. 
Where  would  the  blow  fall  next?  Peter  Bondie 
strove  to  console  himself  with  the  fact  that  the 
Miamis,  who  lived  close  at  hand,  were  his  sworn 
friends,  and  that  the  killing  had  been  done  by  the 
Pottawatomies,  whose  homes  were  a  hundred  miles 
to  the  west,  though  many  of  them  were  always  to 
be  seen  at  and  near  Fort  Wayne.  But  the  consola- 
tion was  rapidly  losing  its  force. 

Peter  and  Fantine  were  debating  whether  Peter 
should  at  once  seek  Major  Stickney,  who  was  ill 
with  ague,  and  tell  him  the  news  or  should  wait  till 
the  morrow,  when  the  Miamis  who  had  accompanied 
Captain  Wells  would  be  ready  to  make  formal  re- 
port. Alagwa  sat  silent,  troubled  over  the  news, 
but  thinking  more  of  Jack's  words  of  the  afternoon 
than  she  did  of  the  possible  consequences  of  the 
massacre. 

Abruptly    a    shadow    darkened    the    door    and 


224  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

through  it,  into  the  room,  stepped  Metea.  Offering 
no  explanation  of  his  presence  nor  of  his  absence 
for  the  past  two  weeks  he  sat  down  at  the  table  and 
began  to  devour  the  food  which  Peter's  Miami  wife 
placed  before  him.  When  at  last  he  had  finished  he 
stood  up. 

"  Behold,"  he  said,  "  my  moccasins  are  worn  with 
much  travel.  I  come  quickly  from  Yondotia  (De- 
troit). I  bring  great  news.  The  American  chief 
and  all  his  men  have  surrendered.  He  was  a  coward. 
When  the  red  man  shook  his  tomahawk  he  fell  down 
and  cried  out.  Over  Yondotia  now  flies  the  flag  of 
the  white  father  who  lives  across  the  great  water." 

No  one  spoke.  The  news  from  Fort  Dearborn 
had  been  stirring  but  this  from  Detroit  was  over- 
whelming, both  in  its  immensity  and  in  the  conse- 
quences it  portended.  The  Bondies,  Alagwa,  and 
even  Metea  himself  had  come,  through  many  years' 
experience,  to  look  upon  the  Americans  as  foes 
who  fought  to  the  death  and  who,  even  when  con- 
quered, took  bitter  toll  of  those  who  slew  them. 
That  Captain  Heald  and  his  garrison  had  been 
massacred  was  terrifying  but  not  altogether  amaz- 
ing, for  he  was  outnumbered  and  isolated.  But  that 
an  army  larger  than  any  that  had  ever  before  been 
mustered  in  the  northwest  should  have  surrendered 
tamely,  without  a  blow,  seemed  incredible.  If  it 
were  true — and  none  questioned  it — it  would  mean 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  225 

the  destruction  of  American  prestige  and  the  rally- 
ing of  thousands  of  savages  to  the  British  standard. 

Metea  voiced  the  situation.  "  The  white  men  are 
women.  They  have  talked  much  and  have  pretended 
to  be  great  chiefs  and  the  red  man  has  believed  them. 
But  now  he  knows.  They  are  women.  At  Yondotia 
they  begged  the  redcoats  to  save  them  from  the 
wrath  of  the  red  men.  It  was  the  red  men  who 
conquered  and  they  will  conquer  again." 

Metea  spoke  the  truth,  though  it  was  left  to  a 
later  day  to  recognize  it.  All  the  early  disasters  of 
the  war  to  the  American  arms  were  due  not  to  the 
prowess  of  the  British  nor  of  the  Indians,  but  to 
the  fear  of  massacre.  Hull's  surrender  was  not  to 
actual  foes  but  to  possible  ones,  not  to  the  threat 
of  civilized  warfare  but  to  that  of  torture  and  mur- 
der by  foes  that  kept  no  faith  with  the  vanquished 
and  that  spared  neither  men  nor  women  nor  babes  at 
the  breast.  "Surrender!  If  I  have  to  attack  I 
will  not  Ije  able  to  restrain  the  fury  of  the  Indians," 
was  in  substance  the  message  that  brought  about 
Hicks's  capitulation  at  Mackinaw,  Heald's  mas- 
sacre at  Fort  Dearborn,  and  Hull's  shameful  sur- 
render at  Detroit.  Hull  was  old,  his  communica- 
tions were  broken,  he  was  surrounded  by  savages 
in  unknown  numbers,  and  the  threat  of  massacre 
terrified  him.  So  he  yielded. 

It  was  cowardly,  of  course,  and  unnecessary,  too. 
15 


226  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

The  later  history  o'f  the  war  and  the  history  of  all 
later  Indian  wars  proved  conclusively  that  no  force 
of  savages,  even  when  backed  by  white  men,  could 
capture  a  fortified  place  if  bravely  defended.  Even 
the  little  fort  on  the  Sandusky,  whose  evacuation  was 
later  ordered  because  to  defend  it  seemed  impossible, 
was  successfully  held  by  a  tiny  garrison  commanded 
by  a  real  man  against  all  the  combined  forces  of  the 
British  General  Proctor  and  of  Tecumseh.  The 
British  victories  in  the  west  early  in  the  war  were 
won  not  by  fighting  but  by  diplomacy — by  "  bluff," 
to  use  the  vernacular  of  a  later  day. 

Metea  had  paused  and  glanced  about  the  room, 
awaiting  a  reply.  It  did  not  come  and  he  went  on, 
his  glance  lingering  on  Alagwa. 

"Peter  Bondie  has  ever  been  the  friend  of  the  red 
men,"  he  resumed.  "  He  has  taken  a  squaw  from 
the  Miami  tribe.  Metea  is  his  friend.  Metea  is 
also  the  friend  of  Alagwa,  the  foster  child  of 
Tecumseh.  Therefore  he  comes  to  warn  him  and 
her.  His  peoples'  tomahawks  are  up.  The  chief 
Winnemac  leads  them.  Already  they  have  slain  the 
white  men  in  the  west.  In  two  days  they  will  be 
here.  Their  tomahawks  will  fall  on  the  white  men, 
and  when  they  fall  they  will  spare  not.  Therefore, 
let  my  brother  and  all  that  is  his  betake  themselves 
to  the  south.  All  this  land  once  belonged  to  the 
red  men  and  it  will  belong  to  them  again.  No  white 
man,  brother  though  he  be  to  the  Indian,  shall  live 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  227 

in  it.  Let  my  brother  take  warning  and  begone; 
and  " — he  turned  to  Alagwa — "  let  my  sister  pre- 
pare to  go  to  Yondotia.  Such  is  the  will  of 
Tecumseh." 

The  Bondies  looked  at  each  other;  then  they 
looked  at  Alagwa.  The  imminent  loss  of  all  that 
they  had  accumulated  was  a  shock,  but  Metea's 
words  to  Alagwa  struck  them  dumb.  Fantine, 
knowing  what  she  did  about  the  girl,  had  suspected 
that  the  tie  between  her  and  Tecumseh  had  not  been 
entirely  broken,  but  Peter  was  ignorant  even  of  her 
sex,  and  its  revelation  took  his  breath  away. 
Neither  he  nor  Fantine  guessed  the  purpose  for 
which  Alagwa  had  come  into  the  American  lines, 
nor  in  any  case  would  they  have  greatly  reprobated 
it,  for  their  associations  and  sympathies  were 
largely  with  the  Indians.  But  the  order  to  her  to 
join  Tecumseh  was  a  bolt  out  of  a  clear  sky. 
Curiously,  questioningly,  the  two  stared  at  her. 

Alagwa,  however,  was  not  thinking  of  herself,  but 
of  Jack.  His  words  that  afternoon  had  cut  her  to  the 
heart.  But  they  had  not  freed  her  from  her  obliga- 
tion to  serve  him.  She  loved  him  and  with  her  to 
love  was  to  give  all,  without  question  of  return. 
Not  even  at  the  command  of  Tecumseh,  would  she 
leave  him.  Yet  she  could  not  defy  the  will  of  the 
great  chief.  She  must  gain  time  to  think  and  to 
plan. 

She  looked  up  and  saw  Metea's  eyes  fixed  on  her. 


228  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

"  At  dawn  tomorrow  my  sister  will  be  ready,"  he 
said. 

At  dawn !  Alagwa's  heart  stood  still.  She  would 
have  time  neither  to  think  nor  to  plan.  Desperately 
she  cast  about  for  some  respite,  however  brief.  "  At 
dawn!"  she  echoed.  "Why  need  I  go  so  soon? 
Why  need  I  go  at  all.  Will  not  Tecumseh  and  the 
redcoats  come  here?  It  is  only  the  Pottawatomies 
who  will  attack  the  fort?  " 

Metea  paused  a  moment  before  replying.  "  The 
Pottawatomies  are  brave,"  he  said.  "  They  will 
surround  the  fort,  cutting  off  all  help  from  the 
south.  If  a  chance  offers  they  will  capture  it.  If 
not,  they  will  wait.  In  one  moon  their  redcoat 
brothers  will  come  with  the  big  guns  to  batter  down 
the  walls.  But  my  sister  may  not  wait  for  them. 
Tecumseh  commands  her  presence  now  and  she  must 
go.  She  will  have  fitting  escort.  Twenty  of  my 
men  wait  to  attend  her." 

Alagwa's  hope  vanished.  No  way  could  she  see 
out  of  the  coil  that  bound  her.  "  Did  Tecumseh 
send  no  word  about  the  young  white  chief?  "  she 
faltered,  desperately. 

Metea  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  The  young 
white  chief? "  he  echoed.  "  He  who  slew  the 
Shawnee  braves  at  Defiance?  No,  Tecumseh  sent 
no  word!  Let  the  young  chief  stay  where  he  is. 
Soon  we  will  test  his  courage  at  the  stake  and  see 
if  he  is  a  brave  man  or  a  coward."  Metea  threw 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  229 

his  blanket  about  his  shoulders  and  turned  to  the 
door.  Then  he  looked  back.  "  At  dawn !  "  he  re- 
peated. "  Let  my  sister  be  ready."  He  strode 
through  the  opening  and  disappeared. 

Alagwa  sprang  to  her  feet.  Her  eyes  flashed,  her 
nostrils  dilated,  her  lips  curled  back  as  they  had 
curled  when  she  faced  Brito.  "  You  shall  not,"  she 
shrieked  to  the  empty  door.  "  You  shall  not.  Dog 
of  a  Pottawatomie,  little  do  you  know  Alagwa.  I 
will  not  leave  him  and  he  shall  not  die.  I  will  save 
him  yet." 

Peter  Bondie  looked  at  the  girl  contemptuously. 
"  So !  "  he  sneered.  "  You  will  not  leave  him,  hein  ? 
You  will  save  him,  hein?  And  how  will  you  save 
him  ?  Bah !  It  is  squaw's  talk." 

"  Silence,  cochon !  "  Fantine  had  risen  swiftly  to 
her  feet.  Her  vast  bulk  quivered.  "  Fear  not,  ma 
bebee,"  she  cried.  "  We  shall  save  him !  He  is  a 
fool  and  blind,  but  some  day  le  bon  Dieu  will  open 
his  eyes.  Till  then  Fantine  will  protect  and  save 
him  and  you."  She  caught  the  half-fainting  girl 
in  her  arms,  and  turned  upon  her  brother. 
"  Scelerat !  "  she  cried.  "  Know  you  to  whom  you 
speak?  Know  you  that  you  address  the  daughter 
of  M.  Delaroche,  the  niece  of  the  Count  of  Telfair, 
your  liege  lady?  Down  upon  your  knees,  pig,  and 
beg  forgiveness. 

Peter  did  not  drop  upon  his  knees — he  had  been 


230  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

in  America  too  long — but  he  changed  color  and  be- 
gan to  mutter  hasty  apologies. 

Alagwa  scarcely  heard  him.  Confused  as  leaves 
driven  before  October's  blasts  her  thoughts  flut- 
tered. Possibility  after  possibility  rose  in  her  mind 
only  to  be  swiftly  discarded.  Her  efforts  to  gain 
time  had  failed.  Metea  would  come  for  her  at  dawn. 
No  doubt  his  men  were  watching.  She  and  Jack 
might  flee  that  very  night — But  no!  Jack  would 
not  go  without  explanation.  Even  if  he  did  go, 
his  flight  and  hers  would  be  discovered  in  the  morn- 
ing and  they  would  be  pursued  and  Jack  would  be 
killed.  He  could  not  withstand  twenty  men.  And 
he  must  not  be  excited.  Besides,  he  would  not  go. 
Well  she  knew  it.  Could  she  persuade  him  to  take 
refuge  in  the  fort?  Not  without  an  explanation, 
certainly!  And  the  fort  would  soon  be  attacked. 
She  herself  had  made  that  certain.  It  was  her  mes- 
sage to  Tecumseh  that  had  caused  the  British  to 
send  their  red  allies  to  beleaguer  it  and  cut  off  all 
help  and  ammunition.  Truly  her  deeds  had  found 
her  out. 

What  could  she  do?  What  could  she  do?  In- 
sistently her  thoughts  beat  upon  the  question.  And 
presently  the  answer  came. 

Jack  must  be  saved.  He  could  be  saved  only  by 
saving  the  fort.  Therefore  the  fort  must  be  saved. 
It  could  not  be  saved  unless  its  garrison  was  warned. 
Therefore  it  must  be  warned. 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  231 

To  warn  it  was  to  be  treacherous  to  Tecumseh 
and  to  her  friends.  It  was  to  dig  a  deathtrap  in 
the  path  which  she  had  called  them  to  tread.  It  was 
to  set  back,  perhaps  forever,  the  day  on  which  her 
people  would  regain  their  ancient  power. 

Alagwa  knew  it.  To  the  last  detail  she  knew  it. 
And  she  did  not  care. 

Jack  should  not  die!  Rather  let  every  Shawnee 
die !  Rather  let  Tecumseh  himself  perish !  Rather 
let  the  whole  Indian  nation  pass  away  forever! 
Metea's  threat  had  done  its  work  well,  but  its  effect 
had  been  far  different  from  that  which  he  had  in- 
tended. 

She  sprang  to  her  feet.  *'  Come,"  she  said.  "  Let 
us  go." 

Bondie  stared  at  Her  with  his  little  black  eyes. 
"Go  where,  madame?"  he  questioned,  respectfully 
but  wonderingly. 

"  To  Major  Stickney.  We  must  warn  him.  The 
fort  must  be  saved." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  August  night  was  close  and  still  as 
Alagwa  and  Peter  Bondie  stole  out  of  the 
hotel  to  make  their  way  to  Major  Stickney's. 
The  moon  had  not  yet  risen  but  the  great  stars  that 
blazed  across  the  immeasurable  vault  of  the  sky 
diffused  almost  as  great  a  light.  Fire-flies  sparkled 
and  pale-winged  moths,  white  blots  amid  the 
shadows,  fluttered  over  the  dried  grass  and  dusty 
trails  that  crossed  the  prairie.  The  hum  of  mos- 
quitoes and  the  ceaseless  rune  of  locusts  filled  the 
air.  In  the  distance  the  unruffled  waters  of  the 
Maumee  reflected  the  stars  and  the  blue-black  in- 
terstices of  the  sky. 

Neither  Alagwa  nor  Bondie,  however,  was  think- 
ing of  the  beauty  of  the  night.  Carefully  they  stole 
along,  moving  like  dark  shadows,  every  nerve  tense, 
every  faculty  of  body  and  mind  concentrated,  watch- 
ing every  bush  lest  it  might  hide  some  of  the  savages 
of  whom  Metea  had  spoken.  Foot  by  foot  they 
crept  along,  using  every  artifice  that  years  upon 
the  frontier  had  taught  to  Bondie  and  that  life 
among  the  Shawnees  had  taught  to  Alagwa. 

Nothing  happened,  however.     Either  Metea  had 
lied  about  his  men  or  else  had  had  not  thought  it 
worth  while  to  set  a  guard  on  the  hotel,  well  know- 
232 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  233 

ing  that  escape  was  hopeless  and  not  dreaming  that 
either  Bondie  or  Alagwa  would  take  the  extreme 
step  of  warning  the  fort. 

Beside  the  walls  of  the  fort,  close  to  the  ford 
across  the  shrunken  waters  of  the  Maumee,  stood  the 
United  States  factory.  At  one  side  of  it,  beneath 
a  tree,  Captain  Wells's  Miami  wife  and  his  three 
children  were  laughing  softly,  not  knowing  that 
far  to  the  west  their  husband  and  father  was  lying 
dead  amid  a  ring  of  blood-stained  bodies.  In  front 
of  the  door  itself  Major  Stickney  was  sitting,  striv- 
ing to  get  a  breath  of  fresh  air  to  cool  the  fever 
that  racked  his  body. 

When  he  saw  Alagwa  and  Bondie  his  face  lighted 
up.  "  Come  and  sit  down,"  he  called,  eagerly, 
scrambling  to  his  feet.  "Is  it  hot  enough  for 
you?" 

Neither  visitor  answered  the  question.  Alagwa 
glanced  at  Bondie,  and  the  Frenchman  stepped 
closer.  "  Captain  Wells  is  kill,"  he  whispered. 
*'  Captain  Heald  and  all  the  garrison  at  Fort  Dear- 
born are  kill.  Winnemac  and  his  Pottawatomies 
have  kill  them.  Perhaps  some  are  prisoners,  but  I 
think  it  not." 

Stickney's  fever-flushed  face  suddenly  paled. 
"  Good  God !  "  he  cried.  Then  with  sudden  recol- 
lection he  gestured  toward  the  woman  and  children 
beneath  the  tree.  "  Careful !  Careful !  "  he  begged, 


234  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

tense  and  low.  Then  again :  "  Good  God !  it  can't 
be  true.  Are  you  sure  ?  " 

Bondie  nodded.  "  It  is  true.  The  news  have 
just  come.  Tomorrow  Otucka,  who  lead  the  Miamis 
who  went  with  Captain  Wells,  will  take  the  news 
to  the  fort.  But  that  is  not  all.  There  is  worse  to 
come." 

Stickney  caught  at  the  log  wall  of  the  building 
before  which  he  stood.  "  Worse  ? "  he  echoed. 
"  Worse  ?  What  worse  can  there  be  ?  " 

Bondie  shook  his  head.  "  There  is  much  worse," 
he  said.  "  General  Hull  have  play  the  coward. 
He  have  surrender  Detroit  and  all  his  men." 

Stickney  stared.  Then  an  expression  of  relief 
came  over  his  face  and  he  laughed.  "  Oh !  Non- 
sense !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  That's  foolishness.  Hull 
surrender!  I  guess  not.  Captain  Wells  and  the 
Fort  Dearborn  garrison  might  be  cut  off,  but  Hull 
couldn't  surrender.  If  the  same  man  told  you  about 
Wells,  perhaps  he's  safe  too.  Of  course  you  did 
right  to  bring  me  the  news  and  I'm  grateful.  But 
it's  all  foolishness — just  a  rumor.  Tomorrow  we'll 
laugh  at  it." 

"  It  is  no  rumor.  It  is  all  true.  Tomorrow  it 
will  be  confirm.  And  even  yet  that  is  not  all." 
Bondie  spoke  gravely,  apparently  minding  not  at  all 
Mr.  Stickney's  disbelief  in  his  news.  "  It  was 
Metea  who  bring  the  news  from  Detroit.  It  was 
Winnemac  and  the  Pottawatomies  who  have  kill 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  235 

Captain  Wells.  Now  Winnemac  comes  to  this  place 
with  his  warriors.  Some  are  here  now.  In  two 
days  the  rest  will  be  here.  They  will  attack  the 
fort.  In  a  month  the  British  will  come  with  the 
big  guns  to  help  them.  It  is  true,  Monsieur,  all  true ! 
Sacre  nom !  Am  I  one  to  tell  lies  ?  It  is  all  true." 

Stickney  dropped  weakly  into  his  chair.  Bondie's 
earnestness  and  the  confirmation  which  Alagwa's 
silence  lent  had  its  weight  with  him.  Almost  he 
believed.  Shuddering,  half  from  horror  and  half 
from  illness,  he  lay  silent  for  a  moment. 

Then  he  raised  his  head.  "  Have  you  told  Lieu- 
tenant Hibbs  ?  "  he  asked. 

Bondie  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Lieutenant 
Hibbs  is  a  fool,"  he  said,  not  angrily,  but  as  one 
who  states  a  well-known  fact.  "  He  speaks  with  a 
loud  voice,  cursing  everyone.  He  will  not  believe 
me,  no  matter  what  I  say.  So  I  come  to  you." 

Stickney  got  up.  "  We  must  go  to  him  at  once," 
he  said.  "  Come."  He  started  down  the  path  to- 
ward the  fort,  then  paused  and  hesitated,  glancing 
at  the  woman  and  children  beneath  the  tree.  Then 
he  went  on.  "  Poor  woman,"  he  murmured.  "  Let 
her  be  happy  a  little  longer." 

At  the  gate  of  the  fort  the  three  were  com- 
pelled to  wait  while  a  messenger  went  to  notify  Mr. 
Hibbs  that  Major  Stickney  wished  to  see  him  on 
a  matter  of  grave  importance.  Plainly  the  captain 
was  not  anxious  to  receive  visitors,  for  it  was  long 


236  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

before  the  messenger  came  back,  bringing  grudging 
permission  for  the  three  to  enter.  "  The  lieuten- 
ant's in  the  messhall,"  he  said,  carelessly.  "  He'll 
see  you  there !  " 

The  messhall  was  a  log  cabin,  long  and  low,  that 
paralleled  the  southern  wall  of  the  fort.  As  the 
three  approached  it  their  ears  were  saluted  with 
loud  laughter  and  clinking  of  glasses.  Clearly,  it 
was  the  scene  of  high  revelry. 

Inside,  at  the  head  of  the  table,  sat  Lieutenant 
Hibbs,  goblet  in  hand,  flanked  by  Williams,  mur- 
derer of  Wilwiloway  and  half  a  dozen  others,  all 
traders  or  petty  officers.  Half  a  dozen  smoky 
tallow  dips  threw  a  flaring  light  on  the  flushed  faces 
of  the  revellers,  but  did  not  dispel  the  dim  shadows 
that  crept  about  the  walls. 

Hibbs  glanced  at  Stickney  with  a  flicker  of  irrita- 
tion in  his  eyes.  He  made  no  attempt  to  rise,  nor 
!did  he  invite  his  visitors  to  sit  down. 

"What  the  devil's  the  matter,  Stickney?"  he 
growled.  "  What  do  you  want  here  at  this  time 
of  the  night.  Can't  you  let  a  man  have  a  minute  to 
himself?  " 

Stickney 's  face  was  grim.  "  I  have  just  received 
very  serious  news,"  he  said ;  "  and  I  have  brought 
it  to  you.  It  is  very  serious — more  serious  than  I 
can  say." 

Hibbs  glared  at  Stickney;  then  he  glanced  at 
Alagwa  and  his  eyes  grew  scornful.  "  News !  "  he 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  237 

growled.  "  I  suppose  you  got  it  from  that  worth- 
less scamp  " — he  gestured  at  Bondie — "  and  from 
that  d — d  Indian-bred  cub.  To  h — 1  with  such 
news.  I  wouldn't  believe  such  dogs  on  oath." 

"  You've  got  to  believe  them  this  time.  I  doubted 
the  news  myself  at  first,  but  now  I  am  convinced 
that  it  is  true.  Send  away  your  boon  companions 
and  listen." 

Captain  Hibbs  threw  himself  back  in  his  chair.  In 
the  flickering  Candle  light  his  blotched  features 
writhed  and  twisted.  "  I  Haven't  any  secrets  from 
my  friends,"  he  growled.  "  Spit  out  your  news, 
or  get  out  of  here  yourself.  Likely  it's  some  cock 
and  bull  story." 

Stickney  shrugged  his  shoulders.  After  all,  why 
should  he  care  who  heard  what  he  had  to  say  ?  The 
news  could  not  be  suppressed.  On  the  morrow  it 
would  be  known  to  all,  and  it  might  as  well  be  told 
at  once.  With  a  tense  energy,  born  perhaps  of 
the  ague  that  was  racking  his  body  and  of  the 
weakness  that  he  realized  was  fast  overcoming  him, 
he  spoke. 

"Spit  it  out?"  he  echoed.  "By  God!  I  will 
spit  it  out!  Do  you  know  that  while  you  are 
revelling  here  the  Pottawatomies  are  dancing  over 
the  dead  bodies  of  Captain  Wells,  Captain  Heald, 
and  all  the  men,  women,  and  children  who  were  at 
Fort  Dearborn?  Do  you  know  that  General  Hull 
has  surrendered  Detroit  and  twenty-five  hundred 


238  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

men  to  the  British?  Do  you  know  that  in  two  days 
this  fort  will  be  surrounded  by  redskins  and  all 
communication  between  it  and  the  outside  world 
will  be  cut  off.  Do  you  know  that  the  British  are 
preparing  to  bring  cannon  up  the  Maumee  to  batter 
down  your  walls?  Do  you  know  this,  Lieutenant 
Hibbs,  you  to  whose  care  this  fort  and  the  honor 
of  the  country  have  been  committed  ?  " 

Stickney  staggered  and  clutched  at  the  edge  of 
the  table  for  support.  His  strength  was  failing 
him. 

But  his  work  was  done.  As  he  spoke  the  jeers  of 
his  auditors  died  away  and  silence  fell.  Alagwa, 
watching,  could  see  the  drink  dying  out  of  the  faces 
of  the  listeners. 

Suddenly  Mr.  Hibbs  staggered  to  his  feet.  His 
atramentous  face  had  grown  pale;  his  nostrils 
twitched ;  his  chin  sagged.  "  It's  a  lie !  "  he  blust- 
ered ;  "  a  lie  cooked  up  by  yonder  dog  and  by  that 
half-breed  cub.  It's  a  lie." 

Stickney's  fever  had  come  upon  him  and  he  was 
shaking  in  its  grip.  "  It's  no  lie,"  he  gasped.  "  It's 
the  truth !  And  there's  no  time  to  lose.  Prepara- 
tions must  be  made  this  very  night  to  send  away 
the  women  and  children,  and  to  make  the  fort  ready 
for  a  siege." 

Hibbs's  eyes  widened.  "  Tonight  ?  "  he  gasped. 
"  You're  mad,  Stickney,  mad."  His  voice  came 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  239 

clearer.  The  news  had  well-nigh  sobered  him.  "  If 
this  news  is  confirmed " 

"  Confirm  it  now.  Send  men  to  the  Miami  village 
across  the  river  and  see  what  word  they  bring  back. 
Don't  lose  a  moment.  But  let  them  be  careful. 
Twenty  Pottawatomies  are  here  already  and  others 
are  coming.  Your  scouts  may  be  cut  off.  And 
hurry,  hurry,  hurry!  Tonight  you  can  do  many 
things  that  will  be  impossible  tomorrow.  For  God's 

sake,  Mr.  Hibbs !  For  God's  sake "  Stickney's 

voice  failed  him,  and  he  staggered.  Alagwa  pushed 
a  stool  forward  and  he  sank  upon  it  and  leaned  for- 
ward upon  the  table,  panting. 

Mr.  Hibbs  was  recovering  himself.  He  glanced 
at  the  faces  of  his  boon  companions  and  saw  that 
Stickney's  words  had  carried  conviction.  The  neces- 
sity of  asserting  himself  came  strong  upon  him. 
"  Damnation ! "  he  roared,  drawing  himself  up. 
"  I  know  my  duty  and  I'll  attend  to  it  without  ad- 
vice from  you  or  anybody  else.  But  I  won't  be 
stampeded.  I'll  send  out  and  inquire  among  the 
Miamis.  When  I  get  confirmation  I'll  act.  But 
I'm  not  going  to  act  on  the  say-so  of  two  worth- 
less half-Injun  curs  and  of  a  greenhorn  out  of  his 
head  with  fever.  Now  get  out  and  take  that  scum 
with  you."  He  jerked  his  head  at  Peter  and  Alagwa. 

The  listeners  nodded.  There  was  sense  in  the 
captain's  Decision.  After  all,  the  reports  might 
not  be  true.  Stickney  believed  them,  but  he  was  an 


240  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

ill  man,  fever  racked,  likely  to  see  things  deceptively. 
It  would  be  folly  to  break  up  existing  conditions 
on  his  single  word. 

Alagwa  had  not  opened  her  mouth.  Silently  she 
had  waited  and  listened.  She  herself  was  so  sure 
of  the  truth  of  the  tale  that  she  and  Bondie  had 
brought  that  she  had  not  doubted  that  it  would 
bring  conviction  to  others.  And  now  Mr.  Hibbs  re- 
fused to  believe  it  or  to  act  upon  it  without  delay. 

And  delay  would  be  fatal  to  herself  and  perhaps 
to  Jack.  Metea  would  come  for  her  at  dawn.  Be- 
fore then  she  must  make  sure  of  Jack's  safety.  De- 
spairingly she  looked  to  Stickney  for  help,  only  to 
find  him  half-unconscious,  shaking  with  fever. 
Clearly  he  was  incapable  of  doing  more.  If  she  was 
to  gain  immediate  refuge  she  must  gain  it  by  her 
own  efforts. 

She  looked  at  the  captain  and  fury  swelled  in  her 
bosom.  Alagwa  hated  and  loved  with  equal  in- 
tensity, and  she  had  hated  Hibbs  since  the  day  she 
first  saw  him — the  day  he  had  scoffed  at  Jack.  Now 
— now 

Recklessly  she  sprang  forward  and  thumped  with 
her  clenched  fist  upon  the  table.  The  subservience 
to  authority  ingrained  in  her  as  in  every  Indian 
woman  had  vanished.  Her  white  blood  was  in  the 
ascendency. 

"  Listen !  "  she  flamed.  "  Listen  while  I  speak.  I 
bring  you  news  that  the  tomahawks  are  up  against 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  241 

you.  In  return  you  call  me  scum.  It  is  well.  I 
want  not  your  good  will.  Think  you  I  bring  you 
news  because  I  love  you?  Not  so!  I  hate  you!  I 
hate  you  all,  dogs  and  murderers  that  you  are. 
Gladly  would  I  see  you  all  at  the  stake.  My  heart 
is  not  white,  it  is  red.  Why,  then,  do  I  warn  you? 
I  warn  you  because  my  friend,  Jack  Telfair,  one  of 
your  own  blood,  one  of  a  family  high  in  the  councils 
of  the  great  white  father  at  Washington — because 
he  is  ill  and  unprotected.  I  ask  not  your  help  for 
myself.  I  ask  it  for  him  and  for  Peter  Bondie  and 
his  sister,  who  at  my  bidding  took  their  lives  in 
their  hands  to  bring  you  warning.  Metea  and  the 
Pottawatomies  keep  watch  upon  us.  At  dawn  they 
will  come.  Are  we  to  be  murdered  because  we 
warn  you?  " 

Hibbs  glared  at  the  girl.  But  he  was  plainly 
uneasy.  He  had  forgotten  about  Jack.  Now  he 
remembered.  He  remembered,  too,  that  informa- 
tion had  come  to  him  lately  that  the  young  fellow's 
family  was  of  importance.  Still  he  blustered. 
"Hear  the  young  cockerel  crow!"  he  jeered. 
"  What's  this  Metea  fellow  coming  to  you  at  dawn 
for?  " 

Alagwa  colored.  She  had  forgotten  her  anoma- 
lous position. 

As  she  hesitated  Williams  burst  in.  "  WTiat's  he 
coming  for?  "  he  jeered.  "  What  you  reckon  he's 
coming  for?  These  Injun-bred  cubs  are  always 
16 


242  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

snakes  in  the  grass.  I'll  bet  this  boy's  been  playing 
spy  for  the  Britishers  and  the  Shawnees  ever  since 
he's  been  here." 

Alagwa  gasped.  Williams  had  hit  upon  the  truth. 
That  he  did  not  know  that  he  had  hit  upon  it  made 
his  words  little  less  appalling  to  the  girl.  After 
all  she  was  only  a  girl,  a  child  in  years,  trying 
desperately  hard  to  play  the  man.  Stickney  was 
ill  and  Bondie  incapable.  She  was  practically  alone 
against  a  dozen  men.  The  fury  that  had  sustained 
her  went  out  of  her,  and  she  shrank  back. 

Williams  saw  her  terror  and  jeered  at  her. 
"  What'd  I  tell  you,"  he  cried.  "  The  cub's  a  liar 
and  a  spy.  He  ought  to  be  shot,  d —  him !  " 

For  a  moment  more  the  girl  faced  the  mocking 
men.  Her  lips  quivered;  her  breast  heaved. 
Desperately  she  fought  for  self  control.  Then  all 
at  once  she  gave  way.  Across  her  face  she  flung 
her  arm,  and  bent  forward,  her  whole  body  shaking 
with  wild  hysterical  sobs. 

Instantly  Williams  sprang  forward,  crying  out  in 
evil  triumph.  "  I  knowed  it ! "  he  yelled.  "  I 
knowed  it.  Look  at  him.  Look  at  his  figger.  He 
ain't  no  boy.  He's  a  girl.  I'd  a  guessed  it  long 
ago,  but  she  was  so  d —  slim  and  straight.  But 
she's  been  a-growing  and  developing.  Look  at  her 
now.  She's  a  girl,  a  girl,  a  girl,  an'  she's  been 
travelling  around  with  that  Jack  Telfair.  The 
hussy !  The  baggage !  " 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  243 

Like  molten  lead  Williams's  words  fell  on  the 
girl's  consciousness.  She  attempted  no  denial ;  de- 
nial would  be  useless.  Blindly  she  turned  toward 
the  door.  As  she  did  so  it  opened  and  three  figures 
pushed  through  it.  One,  a  huge  woman,  caught  her 
in  her  arms.  The  other  sprang  past  her.  The  sound 
of  a  blow — a  clear,  clean  blow — came  to  her  ears, 
followed  by  the  crash  of  benches  and  table.  Then 
Jack's  voice  rose,  chill  with  death. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  said.  "  I  learned  for  the  first 
time  a  few  minutes  ago  that  this  lady  was  not  a 
boy.  Within  the  hour,  if  she  will  do  me  the  honor 
to  accept  me,  she  will  be  my  wife.  In  any  event, 
you  will  remember  that  henceforth  her  honor  is 
mine  and  you  will  address  her  accordingly." 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  doubts  and  fears  of  the  past  weeks  and 
the  terror  of  the  moment  alike  dropped  from 
Alagwa,  giving  place  to  measureless  peace 
and  rest.    Jack  was  well  and  strong  again ;  his  voice 
had  rung  out  as  no  sick  man's  could  ring.     He 
had  come  to  her  aid.    He  would  stand  by  her.     She 
was  glad,  glad,  that  he  knew  her  secret.     She  was 
so  tired  of  playing  the  man.     Closer  she  buried 
her  head  on  Pantine's   ample  bosom  and  let  her 
happy  tears  stream  down. 

Fantine  did  not  speak.  She  stroked  the  girl's 
dark  hair  and  patted  her  comfortingly  on  the  back. 
But  her  eyes  ranged  forward,  watching 'for  what 
was  to  come. 

Those  in  the  room  were  divided  into  two  parties, 
facing  each  other.  On  one  side,  close  to  the  over- 
turned table,  stood  Hibbs  and  his  company,  hands 
en  pistols,  waiting.  Beside  them  Williams  was 
climbing  to  his  feet  from  the  floor  to  which  Jack's 
blow  had  hurled  him.  Facing  them  stood  Jack  with 
blazing  eyes,  grasping  a  long  pistol,  blue-barrelled, 
deadly.  Behind  him  Fantine  held  Alagwa  in  her 
arms.  Over  her  shoulder  Cato  and  Rogers  peered, 
grimly  waiting.  Between  the  two  parties  sat  Stick- 
Bey,  looking  with  plaintive,  fever-filled  eyes  for  the 
244 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  245 

table  so  suddenly  wrenched  from  beneath  his  hands. 

For  a  little  the  picture  held.  Then  Alagwa  re- 
membered that  Jack  was  facing  foes.  Perhaps » 

She  whirled  around,  tearing  herself  from  the 
French  woman's  arms,  and  sprang  to  his  side,  drop- 
ping her  hand  to  the  hunting  knife  at  her  belt. 
She  spoke  no  word,  but  her  glittering  eyes  were 
eloquent.  They  bored  into  those  of  Lieutenant 
Hibbs. 

Perhaps  Hibbs  had  no  taste  for  a  struggle.  Per- 
haps he  merely  realized  that  he  had  gone  too  far. 
Whatever  his  reasons,  he  let  go  his  pistol  butt  and 
laughed  hoarsely. 

"  Have  it  your  own  way,"  he  scoffed,  facing  Jack 
with  an  assumption  of  scorn.  "  This  is  a  free 
country.  Marry  whom  you  d — :  please.  But  if 
you  want  to  marry  this  boy — Humph !  this — er — 
lady — you've  got  to  do  it  quick.  If  she  isn't  your 
wife  in  an  hour  she  goes  out  of  this  fort  for  good 
and  all.  You're  white,  and  I'll  trust  you  to  keep 
your  wife  straight.  But  I'll  be  d — d  if  I'll  trust 
any  Indian-bred  girl  that  lives.  I'll  give  you  an 
hour  to  send  for  Father  Francisco  and  get  tied 
up.  Understand !  An  hour !  Not  a  minute  more." 

Major  Stickney  rose  totteringly  to  his  feet. 
"  But — but — but — "  he  chattered,  protestingly. 

"  Sit  down  !  "  Hibbs  roared  at  him.  "  You've 
been  preaching  a  h — 1  of  a  lot  about  duty.  All 
right !  I'm  doing  my  duty  now.  And  part  of  it  is 


246  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

to  drive  out  of  this  fort  anybody  that  wants  to 
see  me  and  my  men  burned  at  the  stake.  As  for 
you  " — he  whirled  on  Peter  Bondie — "  if  you  and 
your  sister  are  afraid  you  can  stay  here."  He 
strode  to  the  door  then  paused  on  the  threshold. 
"  Remember !  One  hour !  "  he  rasped,  and  tramped 
out  of  the  room,  followed  by  his  friends.  A  mo- 
ment later  the  shrilling  of  a  bugle  called  the  gar- 
rison to  arms. 

Jack  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  That's  all  right," 
he  sighed,  smiling  at  Alagwa.  "  You  poor  girl ! 
What  a  little  heroine  you  are.  You  were  a  wonder 
as  a  boy,  but  as  a  girl — Good  Heavens  !  How  blind 
I've  been.  I  might  have  known  that  no  boy  could 
or  would  have  done  all  that  you  have  done.  Well, 

we  haven't  much  time "  He  caught  sight  of 

Alagwa's  face  and  broke  off.  "  What's  the  matter 
— er — Bob  ?  "  he  asked,  gently. 

Alagwa  raised  her  face  to  his.  In  her  eyes 
burned  a  light  that  Jack  had  never  seen  before — ? 
the  light  of  renunciation.  "  The  road  is  watched," 
she  said.  "  Metea  and  his  braves  watch  it.  If  we 
evade  them  and  pass  unseen,  they  will  come  to  the 
Maison  Bondie  at  dawn,  and  if  they  find  us  gone 
they  will  pursue.  We  can  not  escape  them.  There- 
fore you  must  stay  here,  in  the  fort.  I  will  go 

"You?"  Jack  stared.  Then  he  laughed.  "You? 
My  little  comrade?  My  little — Bob?  I  wasn't  just 
talking  a  moment  ago.  I  will  be  very  proud  and 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  247 

happy  if  you  will  be  my  wife.  We've  been  jolly 
good  friends,  and  we'll  keep  on — with  a  difference. 
You  will  marry  me,  won't  you — dear?  "  He  brought 
out  the  last  word  with  a  gulp. 

Slowly  Alagwa  shook  her  head.  "  No ! "  she 
breathed. 

Jack's  face  showed  surprise,  perhaps  disappoint- 
ment, not  to  say  dismay.  He  stared  at  the  girl  and 
hesitated.  Then  he  looked  at  his  watch.  "  Ten 
minutes  of  our  hour  is  gone,"  he  said.  "  Bob,  dear ! 
you  must  marry  me!  I'll  tell  you  why  in  a  mo- 
ment. But  first  " — he  turned  to  Rogers — ft  Rogers, 
go  and  get  Father  Francisco  and  bring  him  here. 
I'm  not  of  his  church,  but  I  suppose  he  won't  ob- 
ject on  that  score." 

Rogers  nodded  and  started  for  the  door,  but 
stopped  as  Alagwa  raised  her  hand. 

"  Do  not  go,"  she  breathed.    "  It — is  useless." 

Rogers  hesitated,  but  Jack  stepped  over  to  him 
and  spoke  to  him,  and  with  a  nod  of  comprehension 
he  went  out. 

Meanwhile  Fantine  had  slipped  to  Alagwa's  side. 
"  Men  are  all  fools,"  she  whispered,  hurriedly. 
"  They  know  not  what  they  want.  M.  Jack  spoke 
today  according  to  his  kind.  He  thought  of  no 
girl  in  particular.  He  only  had  fancies.  Be  not 
a  fool  and  say  him  nay." 

Alagwa  clutched  the  French  woman's  arm.  "  Why 
did  you  tell  him  ?  "  she  wailed. 


248  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

"  I  told  him  nothing  till  he  guess  for  himself. 
Parbleu !  It  was  time !  " 

"He  guessed?  Guessed  that  I  am  Estellc  Tel- 
fair " 

"  Non !  Non !  He  knows  not  that !  He  knows 
only  that  you  are  a  girl  and  that — Hush!  He 
comes.  I  must  go."  With  a  nod  to  Jack,  the 
French  woman  swept  from  the  room,  sweeping  Cato 
before  her. 

Jack  watched  her  go ;  then  he  went  to  Alagwa's 
side  and  took  her  hands.  "  Little  comrade,"  he 
said,  gently.  "  You  really  must  marry  me." 

"  I  can  not."  The  girl  spoke  so  low  that  Jack 
could  scarcely  hear  her. 

"Why  not?"  he  asked.  "You  don't  hate  me, 
do  you?  " 

Alagwa's  hands  tightened  in  his.  "  Oh !  No ! 
No ! "  she  breathed.  "  Not  that !  Not  that ! " 

"  Then  why " 

The  girl  raised  her  eyes.  She  was  very  young. 
But  it  was  the  day  of  young  marriages.  The  stress 
of  life  brought  early  maturity  and  Alagwa  was 
older  far  than  her  years.  "  Do  you  love  me  ?  " 
she  asked,  gravely. 

Jack  colored.  Then  he  opened  his  mouth  to  be- 
gin the  ready  masculine  lie. 

But  before  he  could  utter  it  Alagwa  cut  him 
short.  "  Do  not  answer ! "  she  said,  sadly  but 
firmly.  "  I  know  you  do  not.  You  like  me  as  a 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  249 

comrade — a  jolly  good  comrade — not  as  a  wife. 
Soon  you  go  back  home  and  you  find  the  sweet, 
gentle  lady  of  whom  you  speak  today — or  some 
other  like  her.  You  have  no  place  in  your  life 
for  the  brown  wood-girl.  For  the  wood-boy  you 
have  a  place,  perhaps,  but  not  for  the  wood-girl. 
I  know  it.  And  I  can  not  marry  you !  " 

"  That's  nonsense,"  Jack  spoke  irritably.  He 
had  offered  to  marry  the  girl  because  he  thought  she 
cared  for  him,  because  he  felt  that  he  owed  it  to  her, 
and  because  he  felt  his  honor  was  involved.  He  had 
not  yet  had  time  to  think  of  her  as  anything  but 
a  boy — a  comrade.  Scarcely  had  he  realized  that 
she  was  a  woman.  But  the  moment  she  refused  him, 
his  desires  began  to  mount.  Jack  was  a  real  man 
and  resembled  most  of  his  sex. 

"  That's  nonsense !  "  he  repeated.  "  There  isn't 
any  *  sweet,  gentle  lady.'  There  was  one,  I  ad- 
mit. But  she — she  was  older  than  I,  and  she's  en- 
gaged and  probably  married  and — Oh!  IVe  for- 
gotten her  long  ago.  I'm  awfully  fond  of  you 
and " 

"  And  I  was  fond  of  Wilwiloway — the  chief  that 
[Williams  murdered  so  cruelly.  The  council  of 
women  say  that  he  might  take  me  to  his  wigwam. 
But  he  say  no;  he  want  ire  not  unless  I  love  him. 
Shall  I  be  less  brave  than  he?  I  did  not  love  him 
and — and — you  do  not  love  me.  So — so " 

"  But  I  do  love  you ! "     For  the  moment  Jack 


250  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

thought  he  did.  "I  do  love  you,"  he  insisted, 
eagerly.  "Haven't  I  told  you  often  how  glad 
I  was  that  I  found  you?  Hadn't  I  planned  to  take 
you  to  Alabama  with  me?  Haven't  I  sworn  dozens 
of  times  that  you  were  the  j  oiliest  little  friend  I 
ever  had?  Doesn't  that  show  that  I  love  you?  I 
couldn't  say  more — thinking  you  were  a  boy !  Come, 
be  reasonable !  The  priest  will  be  here  in  a  minute. 
Say  you'll  marry  me?  " 

Jack  was  speaking  well.  His  arguments  were 
unanswerable.  His  tones  were  fervid.  His  wishes 
were  unmistakable.  But  his  words  did  not  carry 
conviction.  He  saw  it  and  changed  his  arguments. 

"  You  really  must  marry  me,  little  comrade ! " 
he  pleaded.  "  Don't  you  see  you  must.  You — 
You've  been  with  me  for  more  than  a  month  and — 
and — You  remember  what  I  said  to  you  while  we 
were  riding  down  the  Maumee — about  a  girl  getting 
talked  about  if  she — I  said  if  the  man  didn't  marry 
her  he  ought  to  be  shot.  You  remember?  You 
won't  put  me  in  such  a  position?  Oh!  You  really 
must  marry  me !  " 

But  the  girl  shook  her  head.  "  No ! "  she  said, 
firmly.  "  No !  "  She  held  out  her  hand.  "  Good- 
by  !  "  she  said. 

"Good-by?"  Jack's  mouth  fell  open.  "What 
do  yon  mean  ?  " 

Alagwa's  pale  lips  curved  into  a  smile.  "  Has 
the  white  chief  forgotten?  "  she  asked.  "  The  hour 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  251 

is  almost  done  and  I  must  go  from  the  fort.  And 
you  must  stay." 

"  Stay  ?  I  stay  and  you — Good  Lord !  My 
dear  young  woman,  understand  once  for  all  that 
when  you  go  out  of  this  fort  I  go  too.  Either  you 
marry  me  and  stay,  or  we  both  go.  That's  flat." 

Alagwa  paled.  "  But  you  can  not  go  with  me," 
she  cried.  "  I — I  will  not  marry  you,  and  if  you 
travel  with  me  now  it — it  would  compromise  me." 

"  Piffle !  "  Jack  shrugged  his  shoulders,  utterly 
heedless  of  his  change  of  attitude.  "  If  you  go, 
I  go  too." 

"  But — but  it  is  death.  Indeed,  indeed,  it  is 
death." 

"  All  right ! "  Jack  saw  his  advantage  and 
pressed  it  hard.  "  All  right,  death  it  is,  then." 

Alagwa's  eyes  filled  with  tears.  Desperately  she 
wrung  her  hands.  "  Oh !  You  are  a  coward !  A 
coward  to  treat  me  so,"  she  sobbed. 

"  All  right.  I'm  a  coward."  Jack  made  the  ad- 
mission cheerfully.  "  But  I'm  going  with  you — 
unless  you  marry  me  and  stay  here." 

The  door  swung  open,  letting  in  the  night.  The 
parade  ground  was  aglow.  Men  with  lanterns  came 
and  went.  Wagons  were  being  hurriedly  piled  with 
luggage.  Double  lines  of  sentries  guarded  the  walls. 
Evidently  Lieutenant  Hibbs  had  obtained  confirma- 
tion enough  to  alarm  him  and  was  preparing  for  the 
worst. 


252  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

As  Jack  glanced  through  the  doorway  Rogers 
entered,  ushering  in  a  man  who  could  be  no  one 
except  Father  Francisco.  Behind  trooped  Fantine 
and  Cato,  and  back  of  them  came  Captain  Hibbs, 
with  Williams  at  his  heels. 

For  a  moment  the  captain  glowered  at  the  scene. 
"  Tie  them  up,  Father,"  he  rasped.  "  The  hour's 
nearly  gone,  and,  by  God,  I'll  keep  my  word." 

Jack  turned  to  the  girl.  "  Which  is  it  to  be, 
little  comrade,"  he  asked. 

With  a  sudden  gesture  o'f  surrender  the  girl  faced 
him.  "  Swear  you  will  never  regret — never  regret 
— never  regret "  Her  voice  trailed  away. 

"  Regret  ?  Of  course  not.  Come,  Father !  We're 
ready." 

Father  Francisco  did  his  office  promptly.  Prob- 
ably never  before  had  he  married  a  man  and  a  girl 
in  boy's  clothes,  but  he  asked  no  questions,  either 
as  to  that  or  as  to  the  creeds  of  the  strangely  mated 
pair  before  him.  Creeds  were  for  civilization  and 
all  it  connoted,  and  Father  Francisco  had  been  too 
long  on  the  frontier  to  refuse  his  offices  to  any  who 
asked  them.  He  tied  Jack  and  Alagwa  hard  and 
fast,  delivered  himself  of  a  brisk  and  kindly  little 
homily,  blessed  them,  pocketed  the  fee  that  Jack 
slipped  into  his  hand,  and  went  quietly  away  to  his 
duties. 

A  buzz  of  congratulations  followed.  Fantine  wept 
over  Alagwa's  curly  head.  "  Tell  him  who  you  are," 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  253 

she  whispered.  "  Tell  him  who  you  are."  Then 
came  Cato,  who  bowed  over  her  hand  and  called  her 
"  Mist'ess."  Last  came  Rogers. 

"  I'm  mighty  glad,"  said  the  old  man.  "  I  al- 
ways said  you  was  a  durned  nice  boy  and  I  cal- 
culate you'll  make  a  durned  nice  girl.  I  just  want 
to  warn  you  about  talking  too  much,  but  I  guess  it 
ain't  really  necessary.  You  ain't  always  breaking 
in  on  them  that's  older  than  you  and  trying  to  air 
your  opinions.  Most  folks  keeps  a-talkin'  and  a- 
talkin',  but  you're  right  quiet,  and  that's  a  mighty 
good  start  toward  a  happy  home.  I  reckon  you'll 
do,  even  if  you  was  brung  up  with  the  Injuns.  I 
got  something  for  you.  Leastways  it's  for  Jack, 
and  I  reckon  it's  all  the  same  now." 

The  old  man  dug  a  letter  out  of  his  pocket. 
"  Here's  that  epistle  I  was  tellin'  Jack  about  this 
afternoon,"  he  went  on.  "  It  come  half  an  hour  ago, 
while  you  two  was  a-talkin',  and  I  got  it  and  kept 
it  till  you  was  through.  It's  from  Alabam',  and  I 
reckon  it's  from  Jack's  folks.  I  reckon  you'd  like 
to  hand  it  to  him.  Any  way,  I  got  to  go  now. 
Give  it  to  him  when  you  like.  I  guess  there  ain't 
anything  in  it  that  won't  keep  for  a  while." 

Alagwa  took  the  letter.  But  Rogers  was  wrong 
in  thinking  that  she  was  glad  to  give  it  to  Jack. 
Though  proficient  in  the  Indians'  picture  writing, 
she  knew  nothing  of  the  white  men's  lettering  and 
she  held  it  in  awe.  Almost  sooner  would  she  have 


254  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

touched  a  snake.  As  quickly  as  possible  she  handed 
it  to  Jack;  then  stood  back  and  watched  him  as  he 
broke  the  seal. 

As  he  began  to  read,  something — perhaps  it  was 
Alagwa's  strained  attention — drew  the  eyes  of  the 
group  upon  him.  Abruptly  all  grew  silent,  as  if 
something  portentous  was  in  the  air. 

Jack  smiled  as  he  read.  Clearly  the  news  was 
good.  Then  suddenly  his  expression  changed.  A 
look  of  terror  swept  across  his  face.  He  flung  up 
his  hands,  reeled,  and  cried  out.  Then  before  even 
Alagwa  could  reach  him  he  toppled  to  the  floor. 

Instantly  Alagwa  was  on  her  knees  beside  him. 
"  Jack !  Jack !  "  she  wailed.  "  Jack !  Jack !  " 

Williams  glowered  at  the  pair  in  evil  joy.  Then 
he  stooped  and  picked  the  letter  from  the  floor,  to 
which  it  had  fluttered  from  Jack's  loosened  fingers. 
For  a  moment  he  scanned  it ;  then  he  looked  up.  "  I 
reckon  this  is  what  knocked  him,"  he  jeered.  "  This 
here  letter  says :  '  The  girl  you  was  sweet  on  ain't 
married.  She's  done  broke  her  engagement  and 
she  wants  you  to  come  back  to  her.'  An'  here  he's 
done  gone  and  tied  up  with  a  half-breed  Injun  cub. 
Ha!  Ha!" 

Alagwa's  face  grew  white.  What  was  lacking 
in  the  letter  her  mind  supplied.  Her  brain  reeled. 
Williams's  jeering  laughter  grew  faint,  coming  from 
an  immeasurable  distance;  the  candles  spun  round 
her  in  enormous  zigzags,  the  floor  beneath  her 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  255 

swayed.     Blindly  she  stared,  all  her  being  concen- 
trated in  one  great  determination  not  to  faint. 

Then  she  felt  Fantine's  arms  about  her.  Slowly 
self  control  came  back  to  her,  and  she  raised  her 
head.  "  Help  me  to  get  my  husband  to  bed,"  she 
commanded. 

Two  hours  later  Alagwa,  dressed  for  the  road, 
stood  looking  down  upon  Jack's  unconscious  form. 
Her  eyes  were  dry  but  her  face  betrayed  the  ache 
that  tore  her  heart. 

She  was  not  uneasy  about  Jack.  The  surgeon  had 
seen  him  and  had  declared  that  his  set-back  could 
be  no  more  than  temporary.  "  Good  Lord !"  he  ex- 
claimed. "  What  would  you  have?  From  all  ac- 
counts the  boy's  been  under  stress  enough  tonight 
to  prostrate  a  well  man.  He's  blamed  lucky  to  get 
off  as  easy  as  he  probably  has.  Take  better  care  of 
him  in  the  future,  madame ! " 

Alagwa  had  listened  silently.  She  knew  that 
more  than  exertion  had  overcome  Jack.  Her  mind 
was  made  up.  Since  Williams's  revelation  she  had 
felt  that  she  no  longer  had  a  place  by  her  hus- 
band's side.  She  had  saved  his  life  in  battle  and  had 
brought  him  safely  back  to  his  white  companions. 
Since  then  she  hod  saved  his  life  again  by  the  care 
she  had  taken  of  him.  She  had  betrayed  her  friends 
in  order  that  he  might  be  safe.  And  she  had  reaped 
her  bitter  reward.  She  did  not  blame  Jack.  She 


256  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

blamed  herself.  She  ought  never  to  have  married 
him.  His  life  was  not  hers.  If  for  a  moment  she 
had  thought  it  possible  to  go  with  him  and  live  the 
white  man's  life  in  far  Alabama  the  events  of  the 
night  had  blotted  the  idea  from  her  mind.  She 
had  done  all  she  could  to  save  him.  The  fort, 
warned  of  the  coming  attack,  would  be  able  to  hold 
out  till  help  came  from  the  south.  She  could  do 
nothing  more.  Her  part  in  his  life  was  over.  It 
remained  only  for  her  to  take  herself  out  of  it. 

She  would  join  Metea  and  go  with  him  to  Tecunv- 
seh.  After  all,  to  go  was  no  more  than  her  duty. 
Tecumseh  had  called  her  and  she  must  obey.  She 
would  go  and  confess  to  him  that  she  had  failed  in 
her  mission  and  that  she  had  warned  his  enemies 
of  his  coming  attack  on  the  fort.  She  would  tell 
him  why  she  had  failed,  and  she  would  accept  what- 
ever punishment  he  meted  out  to  her.  Almost  she 
hoped  that  it  might  be  that  of  the  stake,  so  that 
she  might  expiate  her  fault  by  extremest  suffering. 
Whatever  it  was,  she  would  submit.  Now  that  she 
knew  that  Jack's  heart  belonged  to  another,  life 
held  nothing  for  her.  Yes!  She  would  go  to 
Tecumseh. 

It  did  not  occur  to  her  that  the  great  chief  might 
not  have  sent  for  her — that  Metea  might  have  been 
bought  by  the  gold  of  Brito  Telfair. 

Once  more  she  looked  at  Jack.  The  smoky  candle 
gave  little  light,  but  the  moon,  now  riding  in  glori- 


THE  WAKD  OF  TECUMSEH  257 

ous  majesty  across  a  cloudless  sky,  shone  through 
the  open  window  with  a  radiance  almost  like  that 
of  day.  By  its  gleam  Jack's  boyish  features  stood 
out  clear  and  distinct.  Slowly  she  bowed  her  head ; 
and  with  a  sob,  she  kissed  him  on  the  lips.  "  Take 
care  of  him,  Cato,"  she  ordered,  to  the  round-eyed 
negro  who  stood  by.  "  Take  care  of  him."  Then, 
dry-eyed,  mute,  she  passed  to  the  square  and  across 
it  to  the  gate  of  the  fort. 

The  sentry  made  no  attempt  to  stop  her ;  he  had 
no  orders  to  stop  those  who  wished  to  go  out;  and 
without  a  word  she  passed  forth  into  the  outer 
world. 


17 


CHAPTER  XX 

JACK'S  relapse  lasted  longer  than  either  the 
surgeon  or  Alagwa  had  anticipated.  When 
the  emotions  of  the  day  cumulated  in  the 
rush  of  blood  that  ruptured  anew  the  delicate  half- 
healed  membranes  of  his  brain  August  lay  hot  upon 
the  land.  When  he  once  more  looked  out  upon  the 
world  with  sane  eyes  September  was  far  advanced. 
The  autumn  rains  had  transformed  the  hot,  dry 
prairie  into  a  fresh  green  carpet  starred  with  late 
blossoms  that  would  persist  until  frost.  The  winds 
were  tearing  the  ripened  leaves  from  the  branches 
and  heaping  them  in  windrows  of  scarlet  and  gold ; 
the  rustling  of  their  fall  whispered  through  the  air. 
From  unseen  pools  along  the  Maumee  the  ducks  were 
rising. 

Many  things  had  happened  while  Jack  lay  un- 
conscious. The  siege  of  the  fort  had  begun,  had 
taken  its  toll  of  dead  and  wounded,  and  had  ended 
with  the  arrival  of  General  Harrison  and  the  troops 
from  Ohio  and  Kentucky.  The  Indians  had  fled 
down  the  Maumee  to  meet  the  advancing  British 
and  warn  them  that  "  Kentuck  were  coming  as 
numerous  as  the  trees."  Harrison  had  destroyed 
the  towns  of  the  Miamis  and  Pottawatomies,  had 
258 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  259 

turned  the  command  over  to  General  Winchester, 
and  had  left  for  Piqua.  Winchester  had  marched 
down  the  Maumee  and  had  built  a  new  fort  at  the 
ruins  of  Fort  Defiance.  Fort  Wayne  itself  was 
almost  as  it  had  been  before  the  siege  began,  but 
the  settlement  around  it  had  been  burned  to  the 
ground. 

In  the  three  weeks  that  had  elapsed  Jack  had 
not  regained  consciousness  sufficiently  to  understand 
that  Alagwa  had  left  him.  After  he  was  better, 
Cato,  fearing  the  effect  of  the  news,  kept  it  back 
until  his  master's  insistence  grew  too  great  to  be 
longer  denied. 

Jack  received  the  information  in  bewildered 
silence.  He  could  not  understand  it.  Many  of  the 
happenings  of  that  eventful  evening  had  been  blot- 
ted from  his  mind,  but  some  of  them  remained  fresh 
and  clear.  He  remembered  how  the  girl  had  fought 
against  marrying  him  and  how  he  had  forced  her  to 
consent.  But  he  remembered,  too,  that  she  had  con- 
sented and  had  married  him,  irrevocably  and  for- 
ever. WTiy,  then,  should  she  leave  him  an  hour 
later?  And  whither  had  she  gone? 

Vainly  he  questioned  Cato.  The  negro  had  grown 
confused  with  anxiety,  responsibility,  and  the  lapse 
of  time.  "  Deed  I  don't  know  whar  she  went,  an* 
I  don't  know  why  she  went,  Mars'  Jack,"  he  pleaded, 
"  Vepin'  it  was  somethin'  in  the  letter  dat  poor 
white  trash  read  out  to  her." 


260  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

Jack  turned  his  head  slightly.  "  Letter?  "  he 
echoed.  "  What  letter?  And  who  read  it?  " 

"  Dat  letter  that  Mars'  Rogers  brought  you  from 
home.  I  don't  know  who  'twas  from  but  I  reckons 
it  was  from  ole  marster.  You  was  a-readin*  it  when 
you  dropped,  and  dat  man  Williams  picks  it  up,  and 
he  reads  somethin'  outer  it,  and  Miss  Bob's  face 
gets  white  and  her  eyes  sorter  pops  and  her  mouth 
trimbles.  Then  she  straightens  up  and  turns  her 
back  on  Williams  and  says  for  me  to  help  her  get  you 
to  bed.  Then,  after  a  couple  of  hours,  when  you's 
restin'  sorter  easy  an'  the  doctor  done  said  you 
warn't  a-goin'  to  be  sick  long  she  tells  me  she's 
gwine  away.  She  didn't  say  whar  she  was  gwine. 
She  just  went." 

Jack  had  listened  silently.  He  was  still  very 
weak.  "  What  was  it  that  Williams  read  ?  "  he 
asked. 

Cato  fairly  groaned  with  the  effort  to  remember. 
"  Seems  like  I  can't  exactly  call  it  back,  Mars' 
Jack,"  he  confessed.  "  It  was  sumpin'  about  some- 
body wanting  you  back  home,  but  who  'twas  I  dis- 
remembers." 

"Well,  where  is  the  letter?" 

Cato  shook  his  head.  "  Deed  I  don't  know,  Mars' 
Jack,"  he  answered.  "  I  ain't  seed  it  since.  I 
looked  for  it  the  next  day  but  I  couldn't  find  it  an' 
I  ax  Massa  Rogers,  but  he  say  he  don't  know  nothin' 
about  it.  I  reckon  it's  done  lost." 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  261 

"  Go  and  find  Rogers  and  ask  him  to  come  here." 

While  the  negro  was  gone  Jack  lay  quivering  with 
excitement.  He  could  not  even  remember  that  he 
had  received  a  letter,  much  less  what  it  contained. 
Cato's  words  only  added  to  his  bewilderment. 
Naturally  his  people  would  want  him  at  home,  but 
he  could  not  conceive  how  any  statement  to  that 
effect  could  have  troubled  Alagwa,  much  less  have 
caused  her  to  leave  him.  The  thought  of  Sally 
Habersham  never  once  entered  his  mind. 

Rogers  came  after  a  while,  but  he  brought  no  en- 
lightenment. The  old  hunter  had  left  the  room  after 
giving  the  letter  to  Alagwa  and  had  not  been  present 
when  Jack  fainted.  He  knew  only  that  the  letter 
was  from  the  south,  presumably  from  Jack's  home. 
Nor  did  he  know  whither  the  girl  had  gone.  He  did 
not  know  that  she  had  gone  at  all  till  nearly  twenty- 
four  hours  after  her  departure,  and  then  he  with 
the  others  was  shut  up  in  the  fort,  unable  to  ven- 
ture out.  And  long  before  the  siege  was  over  all 
record  of  her  going  had  been  blotted  out. 

Later,  Major  Stickney,  recovered  from  his  fever, 
came  to  see  Jack,  but  he  knew  even  less  than  Rogers. 

Balked  here,  Jack  swallowed  his  pride  and  in- 
quired for  Williams,  only  to  learn  that  the  trader 
had  tramped  away  with  General  Winchester's  army 
down  the  Maumee.  He  inquired  for  Fantine,  but 
found  that  she  and  Peter  had  gone  south  with  the 
women  and  civilians  an  hour  after  his  seizure ;  Cato 


262  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

thought  she  had  gone  before  his  "  mist'ess  "  had. 
Even  Mr.  Hibbs  had  gone,  having  resigned  from  the 
army  as  the  sole  way  of  escaping  court-martial  on 
charges  of  drunkenness,  cowardice,  and  incom- 
petence. Every  avenue  of  information  seemed 
blocked. 

Driven  back  upon  himself  Jack  ate  his  heart  out 
with  vain  questionings. 

He  did  not  distrust  the  girl.  It  did  not  even 
occur  to  him  to  question  her  conduct.  What  she  had 
done  she  had  done  for  some  reason  that  had  seemed 
good  to  her.  He  was  sure  of  that.  His  little  com- 
rade had  not  lost  her  staunchness  when  she  changed 
her  seeming  sex,  nor  when  she  became  his  wife. 

His  wife!  The  words  thrilled  him.  Day  by  day 
his  mind  wandered  back  over  the  events  of  the  weeks 
that  had  passed  since  he  came  to  Ohio.  Day  by 
day  the  portrait  he  carried  in  his  mind  changed, 
Alagwa's  boyish  figure  and  boyish  features  melting 
slowly  into  the  softer  outlines  of  womanhood.  Day 
by  day  he  called  back  all  that  she  had  said  and 
done  until  his  heart  glowed  within  him.  How  sweet 
she  was !  how  dear !  And  how  roughly  he  had  used 
her,  treating  her  as  a  mere  boy  instead  of  throning 
her  as  a  queen.  He  ought  to  have  guessed  long  be- 
fore, he  told  himself.  He  ought  to  have  known  that 
no  boy  could  be  so  gentle,  so  tender,  so  long-suffer- 
ing. With  shame  he  reconstructed  the  events  of 
that  last  afternoon  beneath  the  great  tree  when  he 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  263 

had  spoken  of  the  "  sweet,  gentle  lady  "  whom  he 
might  some  day  wed  and  had  laughed  at  the  sug- 
gestion that  he  might  mate  with  a  wild-wood  lass 
like  his  boy  friend.  How  could  he  have  spoken  as  he 
did?  Sally  Habersham  had  been  in  his  mind,  of 
course.  But  Sally  Habersham — Sally  Habersham 
was  not  fit  to  tie  the  shoe  of  his  little  comrade; 
she  was  a  mere  ghost  flitting  through  the  corridors 
of  a  shadowy  half-forgotten  world,  a  million  miles 
removed  from  that  in  which  he  dwelt.  Fantine 
was  right.  What  a  man  needed — on  the  frontier  or 
off  it — was  not  a  fair  face  and  a  knowledge  of  the 
mazes  of  the  minuet,  but  a  staunch  comrade,  one 
who  would  grow  into  one's  life  and  would  share  the 
bitter  and  the  sweet.  Few  men  could  win  such  a 
prize,  and  he — he  had  thought  to  do  so  carelessly, 
casually,  by  arguments  that  to  his  quickened  con- 
sciousness seemed  little  better  than  insults.  How 
had  he  ever  dreamed  that  one  so  tender,  so  true,  so 
loving,  would  accept  his  hand  without  his  heart. 
She  had  called  him  a  coward  when  he  forced  her  to 
marry  him.  Well,  he  had  been  a  coward;  with 
shame  he  admitted  it.  No  wonder  she  had  fled  from 
him.  But  he  would  find  her  and  would  tell  her  all 
the  new-found  love  that  welled  in  his  heart.  And 
she  would  believe  him,  for  he  would  be  speaking  the 
truth. 

But  how  was  he  to  find  her? 


264  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

At  last,  when  he  was  despairing,  Father  Francisco 
came  to  his  aid. 

"  My  son,"  said  the  priest.  "  I  know  not  why 
your  wife  has  left  you " 

"  I  don't  either."  Jack  wrung  his  hands.  "  They 
tell  me  that  it  was  something  in  a  letter — a  letter 
I  can  not  even  remember  receiving.  But  I  don't  be- 
lieve it.  I  don't  believe  it !  She  loved  me !  I  am 
sure  she  loved  me.  And  she  would  not  have  left 
me  willingly." 

Keenly  the  priest  looked  into  the  lad's  face.  "  Do 
you  love  her?  "  he  asked  gently. 

Jack  paled,  but  his  eyes  met  the  other's  squarely. 
"  By  heaven,  I  do,"  he  swore.  "  I  did  not  know  it. 
I  married  her  for  her  honor's  sake.  But  now — now 
— I  love  her !  I  love  her !  For  me  there  is  no  other 
woman  in  all  the  world  and  never  shall  be." 

"And  never  was?  "  asked  the  priest  gently. 

Jack  colored.  "  I  won't  say  that,"  he  admitted. 
"  I — I  thought  I  was  in  love  onoe.  Good  heavens ! 
I  didn't  know  what  love  was  then."  He  laughed 
bitterly.  "  But  I've  found  out  now.  Oh !  Yes ! 
I've  found  out  now." 

Father  Francisco's  eyes  had  never  left  the  lad's 
face.  But  at  the  last  words  he  nodded.  "  I  be- 
lieve you,  my  son,"  he  said.  "  We  men  are  poor 
creatures  at  best.  I  come  to  bring  you  a  crumb  of 
news — only  a  crumb,  but  still,  news.  Your  wife 
did  not  go  south.  She  went  down  the  Maumee  with 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  265 

a  party  of  Pottawatomies.  I  think  she  must  have 
intended  to  go  back  to  the  Shawnees  with  whom 
she  had  lived  so  many  years." 

Jack  clambered  to  his  feet.  "  Down  the 
Maumee?"  he  echoed.  "I'll  start  after  her  at 
once." 

But  the  priest  shook  his  head.  "  No !  "  he  said. 
"  You  must  get  well  and  strong  first.  If  you  start 
now  you  will  kill  yourself  and  you  will  not  find  your 
wife.  She  is  in  no  danger.  Wherever  she  went,  she 
went  of  her  own  accord.  She  is  perfectly  safe.  If 
you  really  want  to  find  her  you  will  control  yourself 
and  get  well." 

Jack  set  his  teeth  hard.  The  advice  was  good 
and  he  knew  that  he  must  follow  it.  But  still  he 
protested.  "  If  you  knew,"  he  began, 

"  I  do  know."  The  priest  spoke  gently.  "  Years 
ago  I  myself — But  that  is  long  past.  Let  it  lie! 
You  must  not  start  for  at  least  two  weeks." 

"  All  right."  Jack  spoke  reluctantly.  "  And, 
thank  you,  Father !  " 

The  priest  rose.  "  No  thanks  are  necessary,"  he 
said.  "  The  church  frowns  on  the  separation  of 
husbands  and  wives,  and  I  only  did  my  duty  in  tell- 
ing you  as  soon  as  I  knew." 

Jack  lay  back  on  his  couch  rejoicing.  The  veil 
was  still  before  his  eyes,  but  it  was  no  longer  black. 
Light  had  dawned  behind  it.  It  would  brighten, 
brighten,  till 


266  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

When  Rogers  heard  the  news  he  nodded  sagely. 
"  I  reckoned  so  all  along,"  he  asserted.  "  I  reckoned 
she'd  gone  back  to  those  Injun  friends  of  hers.  But 
I  kinder  hated  to  say  so.  Most  Injun-bred  young- 
sters does  when  they  gets  an  excuse.  Maybe  that 
there  letter  gave  her  a  jolt  and " 

Jack  sat  up.  "  Williams  is  down  the  Maumee," 
he  gritted.  "  If  I  find  him " 

"  Of  course !  Of  course !  But  of  course  he'd 
lie.  An'  maybe  there's  an  easier  way.  It'll  take  a 
week  or  two  for  you  to  get  well  enough  to  start. 
Whyn't  you  let  me  go  to  Piqua  and  find  Peter 
Bondie  an* " 

"  Will  you  ?  "  Jack  was  growing  more  and  more 
excited.  "  When  can  you  start  ?  " 

"  Right  away.    I " 

"  All  right.  Go !  Go !  Find  Peter  and  tell  him 
all  that  has  happened.  Ask  him  if  he  can  give  me 
any  help,  any  clue,  however  small.  He  had  friends 
near  Fort  Maiden.  He  got  news  from  these.  Find 
out  who  they  are.  They  may  know  something. 
Find  out  what  it  was  that  Williams  read  aloud — 
what  it  was  that  made  my  little  comrade  leave  me. 
And  " — Jack  hesitated  and  flushed  painfully — "  see 
Colonel  Johnson  and  find  out  whether  he  has  heard 
anything  of  Miss  Estelle,  my  cousin  whom  I  came 
here  to  seek.  Good  God !  When  I  think  how  I  have 
failed "  The  boy's  voice  died  away. 

Rogers  looked  at  him  queerly.    "  I  been  a-thinkin* 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  267 

about  that  gal,"  he  said.    "  I  got  an  idea  that " 

Jack  interrupted.  Jack  had  gotten  used  to  in- 
terrupting Rogers,  having  found  that  that  was  the 
only  way  to  get  a  word  in  when  the  old  man  held 
the  floor.  "  Hurry  back,"  he  said.  "  No !  Hold 
on !  I  won't  wait  for  you  to  come  back  here.  Cut 
across  the  Black  Swamp  and  join  me  at  Fort  De- 
fiance or  wherever  General  Winchester  and  the  army 
may  be.  I'll  go  there  and  wait  for  you." 

The  old  hunter  got  up.  "  I  sure  will,"  he  as- 
sented, with  alacrity.  "  I'll  start  right  away.  I 
reckon,  though,  I'll  get  more  from  Madame  Fantine 
than  I  will  from  Peter." 

Jack's  excitement  lessened.  A  quizzical  light 
came  into  his  eyes.  Rogers's  liking  for  Fantine  was 
no  secret  to  him,  "  Maybe  you  will,"  he  conceded. 
"  Fantine  is  very  kind  hearted.  It's  a  great  pity  " 
— meditatively — "  that  she  talks  so  much." 

A  faint  color  tinged  the  old  hunter's  leathery 
cheeks.  "  Who?  Her?  "  he  mumbled.  "  She — she 
— Well?  What  in  thunder  do  you  expect  a  woman 
to  do?  Ain't  a  woman  got  a  tongue?  Why 
shouldn't  she  use  it.  What  I  hate  is  to  hear  men 
talking  so  much.  Anybody  that  cooks  like  Madame 
Fantine  sure  has  got  a  right  to  talk.  But,  all  right. 
Laugh  if  you  want  to.  I'll  be  right  off  and  I'll 
join  you  as  quick  as  the  Lord'll  let  me."  Allowing 
no  chance  for  reply  the  old  man  hastened  nimbly 
from  the  room. 


268  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

After  Rogers  had  gone  the  days  passed  slowly, 
while  Jack  gathered  strength  and  made  ready  to  be 
gone.  His  horses  had  vanished — commandeered  for 
the  use  of  the  army — and  no  others  were  to  be  had. 
Winter,  however,  was  at  hand  and  he  set  himself  to 
follow  the  custom  of  the  country  and  to  learn  to 
use  both  skates  and  snowshoes. 

Cato  had  learned  also,  at  first  with  many  protests, 
but  later  with  mounting  delight.  "  Lord,  Mars' 
Jack,"  he  said,  one  day.  "  I  sutinly  do  wish  Mandy 
could  see  me  on  these  yere  things.  I  lay  she'd  cook 
me  the  bestest  dinner  I  ever  seed." 

Jack  nodded.  "  I  reckon  she  would,  Cato !  "  he 
agreed.  "  But  you  want  to  be  mighty  careful. 
We're  going  a  good  many  miles  on  the  ice  and  if 
you  fell  and  hit  your  head " 

"  My  head !  "  Cato  looked  bewildered.  "  Lord, 
Mars'  Jack,  if  dat  Injun  couldn't  hurt  my  head  with 
that  axe  of  his'n,  how  you  figger  out  I  gwine  to  hurt 
it  on  the  ice  ?  " 

Jack  grinned.  "  Of  course  you  wouldn't  hurt 
your  head,"  he  agreed.  "  But  the  ice  isn't  more 
than  a  foot  thick  and  if  you  hit  it  with  your  head 
you'd  probably  knock  a  hole  in  it  and  we'd  both 
go  through  and  be  drowned." 

As  Jack's  skill  in  skating  grew,  his  impatience 
to  be  gone  increased,  the  more  so  as  the  seat  of  war, 
after  centering  for  a  time  at  Fort  Defiance  (where 
a  new  fort,  Fort  Winchester,  had  been  built  to  de- 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  269 

fend  the  frontier  against  the  hordes  of  savages  that 
hung  along  the  frontier),  had  begun  to  move  down 
the  river.  When  Jack  heard  that  General  Win- 
chester in  command  had  boasted  that  he  would  take 
Fort  Maiden  in  thirty  days  he  refused  to  delay 
longer. 

When  he  started  out  January  had  come.  Snow 
wrapped  the  earth  and  loaded  the  branches  of  the 
trees,  clinging  even  to  the  sides  of  the  mighty  trunks 
that  soared  skyward.  The  road  down  the  Maumee, 
well-travelled  as  it  was,  was  hidden  beneath  drifts. 
Only  the  river  itself  was  bare,  swept  clear  by  the 
icy  wind. 

Down  it  Jack  and  Cato  sped,  their  skates  ring- 
ing on  the  steel-cased  coils  of  the  winding  pathway. 
For  four  days  they  travelled,  passing  Fort  Defiance 
and  Fort  Deposit,  and  coming  at  last  to  the  mouth 
of  the  river.  A  few  hours  more  upon  the  ice  along 
the  shores  of  the  lake  brought  them  to  the  American 
camp  at  Frenchtown  on  the  Raisin  River. 

Here  Rogers  was  waiting  them  at  the  outposts. 
"  I  reckoned  you'd  be  along  soon,"  he  said,  "  an* 
I  been  watching.  I've  got  news  that  you'd  ought  to 
know  quick.  First  place,  Williams  is  here !  No !  I 
ain't  seen  him,  but  he's  here.  He's  on  outpost  duty 
an'  you  can  see  him  tonight  if  you  want  to.  But 
I  reckon  you  ain't  got  time  to  fool  with  the  skunk 
now.  I've  got  bigger  news.  I  didn't  see  Madame 
Fantine ;  she'd  gone  to  Cincinnati  to  get  some  goods 


270  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

to  restock  their  store  that  was  burned.  But  I  saw 
Peter.  Neither  of  'em  knew  that  Miss  Bob  had  left 
you.  Peter  didn't  know  nothin'  about  the  letter. 
But  he  knew  something  else.  And  I  saw  Colonel 
Johnson  and  he  knew  something  else,  too.  Who  you 
reckon  Miss  Bob  really  is?  " 

Jack  clutched  the  old  man  by  the  arm.  An  idea 
was  dawning  in  his  mind.  "  Who  ?  Who  ?  "  he 
chattered.  "  Not— not " 

"  She's  the  gal  you  was  lookin*  for — the  gal  that 
Tecumseh  brought  up.  Alagwa  means  "  the  star," 
an'  they  tell  me  her  right  name,  Estelle,  means  star, 
too.  I  dunno  why  she  fooled  you.  Women  is  durned 
curious  critters  an' " 

The  old  man  babbled  on,  but  Jack  did  not  hear 
him.  The  explanation  of  many  things  had  rushed 
upon  him.  But  the  main  fact  stood  overwhelming 
and  clarifying  out. 

Bob  was  Alagwa,  the  girl  of  whom  he  was  in 
search,  the  daughter  of  M.  Delaroche.  And  she 
was  his  wife.  Once  he  knew  the  truth  he  could  not 
understand  why  he  had  not  guessed  long  before. 

In  truth,  however,  his  dullness  was  not  strange. 
No  doubt,  if  he  had  known  from  the  first  that  his 
little  comrade  was  a  girl  he  would  have  quickly 
guessed  that  she  was  the  girl  of  whom  he  was  in 
search.  But  so  long  as  he  thought  her  a  boy  he 
could  not  guess ;  and  since  he  had  known  her  sex 
his  thoughts  had  been  engrossed  with  other  matters. 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  271 

When  his  thoughts  came  back  to  earth,  Rogers 
was  still  talking.  "  Peter  was  mighty  sorry  she'd 
left  you,"  he  said.  "  He  reckoned  she'd  gone  back 
to  Tecumseh.  And  he  says  for  you  to  see  his  friend, 
Jean  Beaubien,  at  Frenchtown,  and " 

"  At  Frenchtown  ?    That's  here !  " 

"  Yes.  An'  I've  seen  Beaubien !  He  knows  all 
about  Miss  Bob.  She's  living  at  Amherstburg,  with 
white  people.  Tecumseh's  having  her  taught 
things." 

"  At  Amherstburg !  "  Jack  gasped.  "  Why ! 
that's  at  Fort  Maiden,  only  fifteen  miles  away, 
across  the  river !  "  He  turned  to  Cato.  "  Cato,"  he 
directed,  "  you  stay  here  with  Rogers  till  I  get 
back.  If  I  don't  come  back " 

"  Hold  your  horses ! "  The  old  hunter  fairly 
shouted  the  words.  "  You  ain't  plumb  crazy,  are 
you.  You  can't  go  to  Fort  Maiden  'less'n  you  want 
to  lose  your  hair.  There's  seven  thousand  Indians 
there." 

Jack  set  his  teeth.  "  I'll  go  if  there  are  seven 
thousand  devils  from  h — 1  there,"  hie  gritted. 

"  Same  thing ! "  assented  Rogers,  cheerfully. 
"  All  right !  If  you  feel  that  way  about  it,  I 
reckon  I'll  have  to  go  along.  But  there  ain't  no 
use  of  being  any  crazier  than  we  got  to  be.  If 
we  start  at  dark  we'll  git  there  just  about  the  best 
time." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

DUSK  was  falling  fast  when  the  three  friends, 
with  ringing  skates,  fast  bound,  sped  forth 
on  their  perilous  errand.  Before  them 
stretched  the  vast  expanse  of  the  lake,  steel-clad, 
reflecting  and  multiplying  every  spark  of  light  that 
lingered  in  the  firmament.  Behind  them,  low  down 
in  the  west,  the  pale  ghost  of  the  half-moon  dipped 
swiftly  toward  the  tinted  clouds  into  which  the  sun 
had  so  recently  plunged.  All  about  hung  a  silvery 
haze,  moonlight-born,  an  exhalation  from  the  blue- 
black  ice  to  the  blue-black  sky.  Far  in  the  north  the 
nascent  lights  of  an  aurora  flickered  against  the 
sky. 

The  three  did  not  speak  much.  The  wind  that 
had  swept  the  ice  clear  of  snow  made  speech  diffi- 
cult, cutting  the  breath  from  their  nostrils  and 
whirling  it  away  in  transient  wreaths  of  mist. 
Leaning  forward,  to  shield  their  faces,  the  three 
pushed  their  mouths  into  the  furs  that  circled  their 
throats  and  drove  doggedly  forward  into  the  north- 
east. 

Jack,  at  least,  was  silent  for  other  reasons.  He 
was  going  to  the  place  where  Alagwa  had  lived. 
But  would  he  find  her  there?  Or  would  he  find  her 
gone — gone  with  the  fleeing  British  and  Indians? 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  273 

He  had  reason  to  think  that  they  had  fled.  Every 
soldier  in  the  camp  on  the  River  Raisin  was  certain 
that  they  had.  General  Winchester,  of  whom  he  had 
sought  permission  to  go  beyond  the  lines,  seemed 
sure  of  it. 

Jack  had  found  the  general  comfortably  lodged 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  his  troops,  in  the  house  of 
Francis  Navarre,  a  resident  of  the  place  and  a  man 
with  cultivated  tastes  and  a  well-stocked  cellar. 
When  Jack  called,  the  general  was  at  table  with 
half  a  dozen  other  genial  Frenchmen,  who  were 
laughing  at  his  jests  and  listening  to  his  stories 
with  apparently  absorbing  interest.  A  politician 
before  he  had  been  a  soldier,  habituated  to  an  easy, 
luxurious  life  from  which  he  had  been  for  many 
weeks  cut  off  and  subjected  to  privation  and  suffer- 
ing, the  general  was  expanding  like  a  flower  in  the 
sunshine  of  his  companions'  flatteries. 

He  received  Jack  affably — affability  was  his 
forte — and  listened  to  his  story  with  interest. 

"  Certainly  you  may  cross  the  lines,  my  dear 
sir,"  he  said,  when  Jack  had  made  his  request. 
"  But  I  am  afraid  you  won't  find  your  wife  at 
Amherstburg.  My  good  friend,  Jaques  La  Salle 
here " — he  nodded  toward  a  smiling  Frenchman 
across  the  table — "my  good  friend,  Jaques  La 
Salle,  has  information  that  Fort  Maiden  has  been  de- 
stroyed and  that  the  British  and  the  Indians  have 
all  fled.  In  a  day  or  two  I  expect  to  march  up 
18 


274  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

and  take  possession.  A  glass  of  wine  with  you, 
sir." 

Jack  drank  the  wine  in  some  bewilderment.  He 
had  not  supposed  that  such  easy  success  was  near 
at  hand.  "  When  did  they  leave,  may  I  ask,  gen- 
eral? "  he  questioned,  respectfully. 

The  general  shook  his  head.  "  Frankly,  I  don't 
know  exactly,"  he  replied.  "  La  Salle,  when  did 
your  news  say  the  British  expected  to  leave?  " 

"  This  morning,  general.  They  were  packing 
up  last  night.  Probably  they  have  gone  by  now. 
Beyond  a  doubt  they  have  gone  if  they  heard  of 
your  intention  to  march  upon  them." 

"  Ha !  Ha !  Yes !  They've  gone,  my  dear  Mr. 
Telfair.  Still,  they  may  have  left  a  guard.  Some 
scouts  who  came  in  this  afternoon  reported  that 
they  were  getting  ready  to  attack  us  tonight.  All 
foolishness,  of  course!  It  shows  how  little  faith 
one  can  put  in  rumors  in  war  time.  If  you  find 
out  anything  about  their  movements,  let  me  know, 
Mr.  Telfair.  Good  fortune  to  you  sir." 

Jack  hurried  away,  wild  to  be  gone.  But  Rogers 
was  obdurate  and  perforce  he  waited  till  dusk. 
Meanwhile  he  talked  with  the  soldiers. 

All  of  them  were  elated  with  triumph,  past  and 
expected.  Only  two  days  before  they  had  taken 
possession  of  the  village,  driving  away  the  British 
and  Indians  who  had  garrisoned  it,  and  they  were 
delighted  with  their  success.  They  had  made  no  at- 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  275 

tempt  to  fortify  their  position.  Why  should  they? 
They  were  occupying  the  place  only  for  a  moment. 
The  enemy  was  flying  before  them.  In  a  day  or  two 
they  would  pursue  them,  would  recapture  Detroit, 
and  wipe  out  the  disgrace  of  Hull's  surrender.  That 
the  foe  might  rally  and  attack  them  had  not  entered 
any  one's  head.  The  only  man  in  all  the  camp  who 
seemed  in  any  way  dubious  as  to  the  future  was 
Francis  Beaubien,  whom  Jack  visited  to  get  full 
information  as  to  how  Alagwa  was  housed,  and  even 
Beaubien  confined  his  misgivings  to  a  shake  or  two 
of  the  head.  The  reports  of  the  scouts  were  re- 
ceived with  jeers.  Whom  the  gods  destroy  they 
first  make  mad. 

Jack  recalled  it  all  as  he  sped  eastward.  He  was 
torn  two  ways.  For  his  country's  sake  he  hoped 
that  the  enemy  had  fled.  For  his  own  sake  he  hoped 
that  all  of  them  had  not  fled  or  that  Alagwa  at 
least  had  been  left  behind.  Once  away  from  the 
optimism  of  the  camp  he  found  it  hard  to  believe 
that  foes  so  bitter  and  so  often  triumphant  had  fled 
without  a  blow. 

At  last  the  three  reached  the  mouth  of  the  short 
but  broad  Detroit  River  and  turned  up  it  from  the 
lake.  As  they  did  so  the  moon  set,  leaving  the  great 
stars  to  arch  in  splendor  across  the  cloudless  sky. 
In  the  north  the  aurora  still  flickered,  now  shooting 
upward  toward  the  spangled  firmament,  now  dying 


276  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

away  to  palest  gold.  In  the  white  glare  the  frozen 
lake  sparkled  like  a  diamond. 

Up  the  river  the  adventurers  sped,  until  the 
Canadian  shore,  gleaming  white  with  snow,  rose 
silver  edged  against  the  sky.  To  the  north,  far 
away,  points  of  yellow  light  glittered  through  the 
trees  and  from  the  top  of  the  bluff. 

Rogers  jerked  his  hand  toward  them.  "  All 
them  Britishers  ain't  gone  yet,"  he  snorted. 
"  There's  a  right  smart  passel  of  'em  left,  judgin' 
from  those  lights.  I  reckon  we'd  better  land  down 
here  a  ways." 

Jack  nodded  and  changed  his  course,  heading 
sharply  in  to  the  shore  half  a  mile  down  river  from 
the  camp  and  village.  Half  he  expected  to  be 
saluted  by  a  volley  of  musket  balls  or  to  be  met  by 
a  horde  of  ambushed  savages.  Luckily,  however, 
no  enemy  appeared. 

Cautiously  the  three  landed  and  moved  north- 
ward along  the  river,  following  a  road  that  led 
toward  the  village.  When  the  lights  were  very  near, 
Rogers  and  Cato  drew  aside  to  wait,  and  Jack  went 
on  alone. 

Soon  he  found  himself  in  the  thick  of  the  Indian 
village.  No  one  challenged  him  or  questioned  him. 
Dozens  of  other  men  dressed  exactly  as  he  was  were 
passing  along  the  many  paths  trampled  in  the  snow. 
No  British  were  visible,  and  he  guessed  that  they 
confined  themselves  to  the  limits  of  the  fort,  whose 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  277 

dark  bulk  rose  above  the  houses  of  the  village.  But 
Indians  were  everywhere.  Seven  thousand  of  them, 
many  with  women  and  children,  had  gathered  there, 
absolutely  swamping  the  small  village  that  had  once 
surrounded  the  fort.  Dozens  of  French  "  habitans  " 
wandered  through  the  streets.  Nowhere  could  Jack 
see  the  least  sign  of  panic  of  which  General 
Winchester  had  spoken  so  jubilantly. 

The  white  settlement  was  small  and  Jack  had  no 
difficulty  in  picking  out  the  house  where  Alagwa 
dwelt.  It  was  larger  and  better  built  than  most  of 
those  that  stood  near  it.  Lights  shone  through 
several  of  its  windows. 

Jack  went  up  to  the  door,  intending  to  ask  flatlj 
for  Alagwa,  hoping  that  the  boldness  of  his  demand 
might  gain  him  admission  to  her  presence.  His 
knock,  however,  through  twice  repeated,  brought  no 
response.  Hesitatingly  he  tried  the  door,  and  it 
opened  easily,  disclosing  a  dim  hall  with  a  brightly 
lighted  sitting  room  opening  from  it  on  the  left.  For 
a  moment  he  hesitated;  then  stepped  inside.  He 
had  no  time  to  lose ;  if  Alagwa  was  in  the  house  he 
must  find  her;  if  she  was  not  in  it  he  must  search 
elsewhere. 

The  sitting  room  proved  to  be  vacant,  and  a 
glance  through  the  open  door  into  the  dining-room 
just  behind  it  showed  that  this  too  was  untenanted. 
But  as  Jack  turned  back  toward  the  hall,  intend- 
ing to  seek  upstairs,  he  heard  a  rattling  at  the  lock 


278  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

of  the  outer  door.  Swiftly  he  glanced  about  him; 
then  as  swiftly  he  slipped  back  into  the  sitting  room 
and  hid  behind  the  long  heavy  curtains  that  veiled 
the  windows. 

The  next  instant  the  door  opened  and  a  girl 
came  in.  At  sight  of  her  Jack's  heart  gave  a  sud- 
den bound  and  then  stood  still. 

It  was  Alagwa.  And  yet  it  was  not  she!  Gone 
were  the  boyish  garments  that  he  had  known  so 
well,  and  with  them  had  gone  the  slim  boyish  figure 
and  the  careless  boyish  carriage.  The  girl  did  not 
wear  even  the  Indian  costume  that  he  had  expected ; 
from  head  to  foot  she  was  clothed  in  the  garments 
of  the  whites. 

And  her  face!  Jack  gasped  as  his  eyes  rose  to 
it.  The  several  features  he  knew — the  dark  splendid 
starry  eyes,  the  clustering  curls,  the  red  lips,  the 
olive  cheeks  in  which  the  color  came  and  went. 
They  were  all  there,  but  with  them  was  something 
else,  an  indefinable  something  that  he  had  never 
seen  before.  Marvelling,  he  gazed,  till  doubt  began 
to  grow  in  his  mind.  Could  this  indeed  be  she — be 
his  little  comrade  of  the  trails,  she  who  had  fought 
for  him,  she  who  had  nursed  him,  she  who  had 
pledged  herself  to  him  for  better  or  for  worse? 
Could  she  have  changed  into  this  dazzling  being, 
this  maiden  like  and  yet  unlike  the  "  sweet  gentle 
ladies  "  he  had  known  all  his  life,  this  being  ador- 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  279 

able  from  the  tips  of  her  tiny  boots  to  the  last 
riotous  curl  of  her  hair? 

He  was  about  to  sweep  the  curtains  aside  and 
step  forth  when  the  half-closed  door  behind  her  was 
flung  open  and  an  officer  in  a  red  coat,  with  a  long 
military  cloak  trailing  from  his  shoulder,  strode 
into  the  room. 

At  sight  of  him  the  girl  threw  back  her  shoulders. 
Her  eyes  flashed.  Her  cheeks  flamed.  "  Captain 
Telf air !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  What  are  you  doing 
here?  Where  are  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Winslow?  " 

Brito's  eyes  gleamed.  He  did  not  answer  the 
questions.  "At  last,'*  he  breathed.  "At  last! 
I've  got  you  at  last.  I  told  you  I  would  get  you 
sooner  or  later.  And,  by  God,  I  have."  His  voice 
sank  almost  to  a  whisper. 

Alagwa  did  not  answer.  Almost  she  seemed  to 
have  expected  some  such  reply.  Steadily  she  faced 
the  man.  Jack,  behind  her,  could  see  the  color 
pulsing  in  her  cheek,  just  visible  by  the  flaming 
lamps. 

Greatly  he  longed  to  spring  forward  and  take 
Brito  by  the  throat.  But  he  did  not  do  so.  He 
was  in  the  heart  of  the  enemy's  camp ;  the  least  out- 
cry would  bring  against  him  overwhelming  odds  and 
doom  him  to  a  shameful  death.  Until  the  very 
last  moment  he  would  wait. 

"  You  nearly  killed  me  once,  you  know,  Estelle," 


280  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

the  man  went  on,  in  the  same  hushed,  almost  wonder- 
ing tones.  "  You  fought  me  and  you  shot  me.  It 
was  then  I  first  learned  to  love  you.  We  are  a 
fierce  race,  we  Telfairs,  and  we  love  fierce  women. 
And  you  are  fierce,  Estelle,  fierce  as  the  wild  Indians 
who  brought  you  up.  God !  " — he  laughed  hoarsely 
— "  to  think  that  I — I,  Brito  Telfair,  I  who  supped 
on  the  honey  of  women  long  before  I  became  a  man, 
I  who  have  known  courts  and  palaces  and  kings — 
to  think  that  I  should  go  mad  over  a  wood-bred 
girl!  But  it's  true,  Estelle;  it's  true.  You  are 
my  mate — hot  and  fierce  and  proud.  You  are  mine 
and  tonight  at  last  I  have  you  fast." 

"  Be  not  too  sure ! "  Jack  scarcely  knew  the 
girl's  voice,  so  deep  and  resonant  it  had  become  and 
so  well  had  she  mastered  the  intricacies  of  the  Eng- 
lish tongue.  "  Be  not  too  sure.  You  thought  so 
twice  before — once  in  the  midst  of  Fort  Defiance 
and  once  when  Metea  and  his  bribed  dogs  turned 
me  over  to  you.  But  both  times  you  were  deceived." 

Brito  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  You  saved  your- 
self the  first  time,  my  beauty,"  he  said.  "  And  I 
love  you  for  it.  Tecumseh  saved  you  the  second 
time  and  I  hate  him  for  it.  Since  then  you  have 
fought  me  off  with  your  tale  of  a  husband !  a  hus- 
band !  "  The  man  laughed  savagely.  "  That  game 
is  played  out.  You  have  no  husband!  I  have 
learned  all  the  details  at  last.  Marriage  between 
a  Catholic  and  a  heretic  who  part  ten  minutes  after 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  281 

the  ceremony  is  no  marriage.  It  can  be  annulled 
and  it  will  be  annulled." 

"  It  never  shall  be !  " 

"Ah!  But  it  shall.  Tomorrow  you  yourself 
will  ask  it.  Tonight  you  are  in  my  power — in  my 
power,  do  you  understand?  I  command  at  Fort 
Maiden  tonight.  General  Proctor  and  all  my 
superiors  have  gone  to  crush  those  braggart  Ameri- 
cans at  Frenchtown.  Tecumseh  and  his  braves  have 
gone  with  them.  Winslow  and  his  wife,  they  who 
have  sheltered  you  here,  are  under  arrest  by  my 
orders ;  they  will  be  released  with  apologies  tomor- 
row, but  tonight  they  are  fast  and  can  not  come 
to  help  you.  You  are  mine — and  tomorrow  you  will 
ask  annullment.** 

Behind  the  curtains  Jack  stood  tense  and  ready. 
The  news  that  the  British  and  Indians  had  marched 
against  General  Winchester  appalled  him.  He 
knew  what  fearful  havoc  they  would  work  if  they 
could  slip  by  night  upon  the  confident  sleeping 
troops. 

What  could  he  do?  How  warn  his  countrymen? 
He  could  not  leave  Alagwa  in  peril.  Nay!  He 
could  not  leave  at  all.  The  road  to  the  River 
Raisin  led  through  the  room,  past  Brito  and  the 
Indians  without.  Could  he  pass  them?  He  could 
not  overpower  Brito  without  a  struggle.  And  a 
single  out-cry  would  ruin  all.  He  must  wait — wait 
and  watch.  The  game  was  not  played  out.  Alagwa 


282  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

was  no  child.  She  might  save  herself  and  make  it 
possible  for  him  to  escape  with  her  to  the  American 
camp.  With  hard-set  jaws  he  waited. 

Alagwa  was  speaking  without  tremor  or  fear. 
Scorn  unutterable  rang  in  her  voice. 

"  It  is  a  plot  worthy  of  you  and  your  race,"  she 
grated.  "  Dogs  and  liars  that  you  are.  Oh !  I 
have  found  you  out,  all  of  you !  For  years  you 
have  cheated  my  people,  deceived  them,  debauched 
them.  For  years  you  have  fed  them  with  lying 
promises  to  restore  them  to  their  ancient  homes. 
You  hated  and  despised  them,  but  you  wanted  them 
for  a  bulwark  against  the  Americans.  You  wanted 
them  and  you  got  them.  You  won  them  cheaply--- 
by  lies  and  by  presents — presents  for  which  they 
are  paying  now.  They  have  borne  the  brunt  of 
every  battle  in  this  war.  They  have  won  every 
victory  for  you.  And  you — you  do  not  dream  of 
keeping  your  promises.  You — you  personally — are 
like  your  lying  race.  You  have  killed,  you  have 
bribed,  you  have  conspired,  you  have  imprisoned 
those  of  your  own  race  to  win  your  way  to  this 
house,  to  get  your  grasp  on  the  lands  Handed  idown 
to  me  by  my  forefathers.  Tonight  you  purpose 
to  betray  the  great  chief  who  has  gone  away  to  fight 
your  battles,  trusting  to  your  honor,  leaving  his 
women  in  your  care.  All  my  life  long  I  have  been 
taught  to  hate  the  Americans.  All  my  life  long 
I  have  Been  taught  to  look  upon  them  as  robb'ers 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  283 

and  as  foes.  But,  after  all,  I  was  born  beneath  the 
American  flag.  I  have  marriecl  an  American.  I 
am  an  American.  And  I  am  proud  of  it !  Yes ! 
proud  of  it !  I  am  proud  of  my  husband  and  proud 
of  the  race  that  produced  him.  I  hate  their  foes. 
I  hate  you.  And,  by  the  white  man's  God  I  swear, 
that  your  triumph — if  you  win  it — shall  be  hollow, 
for  you  will  clasp  a  dead  woman  in  your  arms.  And 
tomorrow — tomorrow — Tecumseh  will  come  back 
and  burn  you  at  the  stake !  " 

Brito  did  not  answer  in  words.  Instead,  he  leaped 
swiftly  forward,  clutching  at  the  girl  with  out- 
stretched arms. 

Had  Alagwa  been  bred  in  civilization  he  must  have 
caught  her.  But  quickly  as  he  leaped,  eyes  and 
muscles  trained  to  avoid  the  rattlesnake  striking 
from  his  lurking  place  in  the  grass  were  quicker. 
Alagwa  dodged  beneath  his  arms  and  darted  into 
the  dining-room,  flinging  the  door  backward  behind 
her  as  she  went. 

Jack  could  wait  no  longer.  As  Alagwa  vanished 
he  sprang  from  behind  the  curtains  and  threw  him- 
self upon  Brito.  His  fingers  closed  on  the  latter's 
long  military  cloak  and  he  swung  the  Englishman 
round  with  a  fury  that  tore  the  garment  from  his 
shoulders  and  sent  him  catapulting  against  the 
farther  wall.  Simultaneously  the  jar  of  a  heavy 
door  told  that  Alagwa  had  escaped  from  the  house. 

Cursing  horribly,   the   Englishman   sprang  up, 


284  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

plunging  at  Jack,  sword  out.  But  he  halted  and 
recoiled  as  he  met  the  small  dark  unwinking  stare 
of  the  American's  pistol. 

Jack's  voice  rang  out,  chill  and  metallic. 
"  Silence !  "  he  clinked.  "  If  you  raise  your  voice, 
you  die." 

Breathing  hard,  Brito  faced  the  unexpected  foe 
who  had  confronted  him.  Suddenly  his  eyes 
gleamed  with  recognition  and  his  teeth  flashed  from 
behind  his  snarling  lips.  "  You !  "  he  gasped.  "  By 
God!  You!" 

Jack  frowned.    "  Not  so  loud,"  he  cautioned. 

"  Not  so  loud !  By  God !  Hear  the  cockerel 
crow."  A  hoarse  laugh  rumbled  from  the  speaker's 
lips.  "  You  come  in  good  time,"  he  cried.  "  Yes  ! 
In  good  time.  I  shall  not  have  to  ask  annullment 
now." 

Jack  did  not  answer.  He  was  thinking  what  to 
do.  He  could  not  shoot  the  man  down  in  cold  blood ! 
Besides,  the  noise  of  the  shot  would  probably  cost  him 
his  own  life  and  would  certainly  bring  his  expedition 
to  an  untimely  end.  He  had  caught  his  enemy  but 
he  did  not  know  what  to  do  with  him. 

Brito  laughed  again.  Clearly  he  understood  the 
American's  dilemma.  "  You  whelp !  "  he  rasped. 
"  Do  you  think  that  popgun  will  save  you  ?  "  he 
sneered.  "  Or  do  you  think  Estelle  will  come  back 
to  help  you.  She's  the  better  man  of  the  two.  But 
she  won't  come  back.  She  didn't  even  see  you, 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  285 

much  less  recognize  you.  I  don't  believe  she  knew 
that  any  one  had  come  to  her  help.  Probably  she's 
gone  for  her  Indians.  If  she  comes  back  with 
them— Well!  my  friend,  it'll  be  all  up  with  you." 
Brito  was  recovering  his  poise. 

Jack  did  not  answer.  He  knew  that  if  the 
Indians  came  it  would  indeed  be  all  up  with  him. 
Swiftly  his  eyes  quested  the  rooms.  At  last  they 
rested  on  a  bell  rope  that  hung  from  the  wall. 

Instantly  he  swung  back  on  Brito.  "  Drop  that 
sword,"  he  ordered. 

Brito  dropped  it.  He  heard  death  in  Jack's 
tones. 

"Turn  your  back!  Quick!"  Brito  turned  it. 
He  was  no  coward,  but  Jack's  eyes  brooked  no  de- 
nial. In  them  he  read  obedience  or  death. 

As  he  turned  Jack  snatched  at  the  bell  cord  that 
hung  along  the  wall  and  tore  it  down.  Somewhere 
in  the  house  a  furious  jangling  rose  and  slowly 
died  away.  As  it  died  Jack  looped  the  rope,  coil 
after  coil,  about  Brito's  body.  "  Silence !  Or  you 
die ! "  he  growled,  and  the  Englishman's  frantic 
but  low-pitched  curses  died  away.  Swiftly  he 
bound  the  man  to  a  heavy  chair  and  thrust  a  gag 
into  his  mouth.  Then,  throwing  the  long  military 
cloak  about  his  shoulders,  and  clapping  the  army 
cap  upon  his  head,  he  turned  without  a  word  to  the 
door. 

His  heart  was  heavy  within  him.     He  had  set  out 


286  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

to  tell  Alagwa  of  his  new-born  love  and  to  bring  her 
back  with  him.  He  had  won  his  way  to  her  side, 
had  seen  her  face,  had  heard  her  voice — had  heard 
her  declare  that  she  was  proud  of  him,  her  hus- 
band. If  he  could  have  had  a  moment's  speech  with 
her — a  single  moment's  speech — he  could  have  told 
her — told  her — But  it  was  not  to  be.  Hidden  in 
the  mazes  of  the  Indian  camp  she  was  for  the  mo- 
ment beyond  his  reach. 

Besides,  he  must  hurry  to  warn  the  American 
camp.  His  heart  burned  hot  as  he  thought  of  the 
fatuous  fool  who  slept  far  from  his  men,  who  scof- 
fed at  warnings,  who  neglected  the  commonest  pre- 
cautions for  defense.  Swift  as  prudence  would 
allow  he  sped  through  the  Indian  camp  to  where 
Rogers  and  Cato  waited,  and  together  the  three 
raced  southward  and  westward,  hoping  against 
hope  that  they  would  yet  be  in  time,  hoping  till  the 
far-off  rattle  of  rifles  rose  and  fell  and  died  away, 
till  red  flames  crimsoned  the  sky,  and  the  yells  of 
exultant  savages  sounded  across  the  snow  and  the 
ice.  Then,  hopeless,  the  three  circled  south  and 
took  the  trail  back  to  the  Maumee,  bearing  to  Gen- 
eral Harrison  the  fateful  news  that  General  Win- 
chester's army  was  no  more. 

This  much  Jack  knew  and  told.  He  could  not 
know,  what  the  world  has  since  learned,  that  Win- 
chester, waking  to  the  yells  of  the  foe  as  they 
hurled  themselves  upon  his  defenseless  camp,  tried 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  287 

too  late  to  join  his  sleeping  soldiers  and  was  cap- 
tured by  the  Indians  and  taken  before  General 
Proctor.  He  could  not  know  that  Winchester, 
overborne  by  Proctor's  threat  that  he  feared  he 
would  not  be  able  to  restrain  the  fury  of  his 
savages  if  the  Americans  continued  to  resist,  thrice 
sent  an  order  of  surrender  to  Major  Madison 
and  the  men  who  were  bravely  holding  out  behind 
a  barricade  of  garden  pickets.  He  could  not  know 
that  at  the  third  order  Madison  had  surrendered 
on  pledges  of  protection  from  Proctor  himself — 
pledges  that  the  British  general  promptly  forgot, 
abandoning  the  wounded  and  the  dying  to  the  ven- 
geance of  his  savage  allies — abandoning  more  than 
three  hundred  men,  unarmed  and  defenseless,  to  be 
tomahawked  in  cold  blood  or  to  be  burned  alive  in  the 
building  that  had  been  hurriedly  transformed  into 
a  hospital.  He  could  not  know  that  six  hundred 
more  had  been  carried  away  as  prisoners,  and  that 
of  the  thousand  jubilant  men  who  had  thought  to 
march  on  Amherstburg  and  Detroit  on  the  morrow 
only  thirty-three  escaped. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

BEFORE  Jack  again  approached  Fort  Maiden 
six  months  had  passed  away — six  months 
of  winter,  of  budding  spring,  of  golden 
summer.  When  General  Winchester's  army  per- 
ished winter  was  nearing  its  end ;  when  at  last 
the  tide  of  war  changed  and  began  to  flow  north- 
ward summer  had  died  on  a  bed  of  scarlet  and  gold 
and  autumn  winds  were  driving  the  rustling  leaves 
through  the  whispering  woods. 

During  those  six  months  even  Jack,  desperate 
as  he  was,  had  not  dared  to  run  the  cordon  of  foes 
that  lay  between  him  and  his  desires.  Not  till 
Perry  had  swept  the  British  from  Lake  Erie  and 
Harrison  sailed  with  five  thousand  men  for  Canada 
could  he  once  more  set  about  his  quest. 

First  of  all  Americans  Jack  sprang  upon  the 
Canadian  shore  at  almost  the  very  spot  where  he 
had  landed  from  the  ice  so  many  months  before. 
But  he  was  too  late.  Fort  Maiden  was  in  ruins; 
British  and  savages  had  together  fled ;  and  Alagwa 
had  gone.  Half-mad  with  anxiety,  he  sought  and 
gained  permission  to  scout  in  front  of  the  army, 
which  was  advancing  swiftly,  driving  the  foe  before 
it.  Now  or  never  he  must  find  his  bride. 

His  chance  came  when,  advancing  up  the  Thames 
288 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  289 

River  with  some  of  Perry's  sailors,  he  captured  a 
bateau  manned  by  a  captain  and  half  a  dozen 
Canadian  dragoons.  Half  an  hour  later,  clad  in 
the  captain's  uniform,  he  went  forward  into  the 
darkening  night,  determined  to  ascertain  the  posi- 
tion and  defenses  of  the  enemy,  to  learn  whether 
they  meant  to  fight  or  fly,  and  to  find  Alagwa. 

He  went  alone ;  Rogers  was  lying  wounded  at  the 
encampment  at  the  mouth  of  the  Portage  River, 
where  he  was  being  nursed  by  Pantine.  Cato  he 
refused  to  take. 

The  night  was  made  for  scouting.  Close  to  the 
ground  a  light  breeze  whispered,  and  high  over- 
head a  wrack  of  clouds  drove  furiously  across  the 
sky.  Through  the  gaps  in  the  flying  scud  huge  stars 
blazed  down,  casting  an  intermittent  light  that 
enabled  Jack  to  keep  his  course  without  revealing 
his  movements  to  possible  enemies.  Hour  after  hour 
he  went  on,  slowly,  not  knowing  where  he  would 
chance  upon  the  foe.  He  did  not  intend  to  try  to 
creep  upon  them  unseen.  He  intended  to  walk  in 
upon  them  boldly,  as  one  who  had  a  right  to  be 
present,  trusting  for  safety  to  his  disguise  and  to 
the  inevitable  confusion  of  the  retreat  that  would 
make  it  good.  But  he  wished  to  choose  his  own 
time  for  appearing  and  not  to  blunder  on  the 
enemy's  camp  unawares. 

The  path  that  he  was  following1  was  broad  and 
19 


290  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

soggy.  It  had  been  driven  straight  through  crushed 
bushes  that  were  slowly  straightening  themselves 
and  over  broken  and  torn  brambles.  Spruce  and 
hemlock  overhung  the  path,  brushing  his  face  with 
long  spicy  needles.  Beyond,  on  either  side,  rat- 
tled the  bare  canes  of  the  underbrush,  rubbing  to»- 
gether  their  thousand  branches,  bark  against  bark. 
Far  away  an  owl  called,  and  once,  high  overhead, 
Jack  heard  the  honk,  honk  of  wild  geese  speeding 
southward  through  the  upper  reaches  of  the  air. 

Well  he  knew  that  his  errand  was  desperate,  more 
desperate  than  had  been  his  venture  into  Amherst- 
burg  six  months  before.  If  detected  he  could  ex- 
pect no  mercy.  From  time  immemorial  even  civil- 
ized foes  had  punished  spies  with  death.  What 
doom  then  could  he  expect  from  savages  who  had 
been  beaten  and  broken,  whose  ranks  had  been  de- 
pleted, whose  villages  had  been  burned,  whose  allies 
(on  whom  they  had  relied  to  protect  them  from  the 
consequences  of  their  rebellion)  were  in  full  retreat? 
Jack  knew  well  the  fiery  death  he  faced.  But  he 
knew,  too,  that  if  he  did  not  find  Alagwa  that  night 
he  would  probably  never  find  her. 

Abruptly  the  underbrush  ended  and  he  came  out 
into  a  park-like  open  space  that  stretched  far  into 
the  distance.  On  the  right  the  gleam  of  water 
showed  where  the  Thames  wandered  sluggishly  to 
Lake  St.  Clair.  Cautiously  he  followed  it  till  his 
road  forked.  One  branch,  broad  and  deep,  trampled 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  291 

and  showing  marks  of  heavy  wheels,  ran  on  up  the 
river;  the  other,  marked  only  by  trampled  grass, 
turned  off  to  the  left.  Jack  took  the  second,  for 
he  was  looking  for  the  Indians  rather  than  for  the 
British.  He  followed  it  through  a  belt  of  swamp, 
in  which  he  sank  nearly  to  the  knees,  then  came  out 
upon  a  second  clearing,  across  which,  perhaps  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  away,  he  saw  a  light  flashing  close 
to  the  ground. 

With  tightening  pulses  he  advanced.  Soon  he 
saw  leaping  flames,  crisscrossed  by  the  black 
branches  of  the  trees.  Then  they  vanished,  but 
their  glow  on  the  overreaching  trees  persisted,  show- 
ing that  they  had  been  merely  obscured  and  not  ex- 
tinguished. A  few  yards  farther,  and  the  screen 
that  had  cut  off  the  light  resolved  itself  into  men 
thickly  ranked.  Jack  knew  that  Indians,  most  of 
all  Indians  upon  the  warpath,  build  only  tiny  fires 
for  cooking,  for  warmth,  or  for  company;  for 
council  alone  did  they  build  great  fires  like  this. 
Half  by  luck  and  half  by  effort  he  had  found  his 
way  to  the  spot  he  most  desired — to  the  council  fire 
of  the  savages. 

Now  or  never.  Boldly  he  strode  forward,  like 
one  who  expects  no  challenge.  The  clearing1  ended, 
giving  way  to  undergrowth,  beyond  which  rose 
thicker  forest.  The  ground  underfoot  again  grew 
spongy  and  he  knew  he  was  entering  a  second 
swamp.  A  guard  of  Indians,  squatting  at  the  edge 


292  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

of  what  was  evidently  the  camp,  stared  at  him  as 
he  passed  but  made  no  move  to  stay  him.  Further 
on,  here  and  there,  a  warrior  glanced  at  him  care- 
lessly. Jack  did  not  heed  them ;  he  well  knew  that  to 
hesitate  would  be  fatal ;  deliberately  he  advanced  to 
the  ring  of  savages  and  pushed  his  way  through  them. 
Within,  a  ring  of  sitting  men — redcoats  and 
red  men — were  ranged  in  an  ellipse  in  whose  center 
burned  the  fire  that  he  had  seen  from  afar  off.  At 
one  end,  a  little  in  advance  of  the  line,  sat  an  Indian 
clad  in  the  red  coat  and  shoulder  straps  of  a 
British  officer.  Jack  recognized  him  instantly  as 
the  chief  who  had  visited  him  upon  the  far-away 
Tallapoosa  and  realized  that  he  must  be  Tecumseh 
himself — Tecumseh,  who  had  been  made  a  major- 
general  by  the  British  king.  At  the  other  end  of  the 
ellipse,  also  in  advance  of  the  line,  sat  a  British 
officer,  evidently  of  high  rank.  Jack  guessed  that 
he  was  General  Proctor.  Round  the  circuit  of  the 
ellipse  were  ranged  officers  wearing  the  uniforms  of 
the  British  and  of  the  Canadian  militia,  inter- 
spersed with  Indians,  sachems  of  many  tribes — 
Pottawatomies,  Shawnees,  Miamis,  and  others — 
representatives  of  the  nations  that  the  British  had 
roused  to  murder  and  massacre.  Only  the  Wyan- 
dottes  were  absent;  foreseeing  the  vengeance 
that  was  about  to  fall,  they  had  that  morning  fled 
and  offered  their  services  to  General  Harrison,  only 
to  be  sent  to  thie  rear  with  the  curt  announcement 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  293 

that  Americans  did  not  enlist  savages  in  warfare 
against  white  men. 

Close  to  Jack  a  gap  showed  in  the  circuit  of 
the  ellipse.  He  stepped  forward  deliberately  and 
seated  himself  in  it. 

No  one  said  him  nay.  All  who  noticed  him  seemed 
to  take  him  at  his  own  appraisal.  His  uniform  was 
a  passport,  and  doubtless  none  dreamed  that  an 
enemy  would  dare  to  so  beard  death  in  his  very  lair. 
None  challenged  him,  and  when  he  looked  about  him 
no  suspicious  eyes  burned  into  his. 

In  the  middle  of  the  cleared  space  blazed  the  fire, 
its  dancing  flames  flickering  on  the  bare  overhang- 
ing boughs  and  on  the  ghastly  painted  faces  of  the 
savages.  At  one  side  of  it  rose  a  cross,  from  whose 
arms  hung  the  creamy-white  bodies  of  two  dogs 
bound  in  ribbons  of  white  and  scarlet.  They  bore 
no  scar ;  so  deftly  had  they  been  strangled  that  not 
a  single  hair  had  been  disturbed.  At  the  other  side 
of  the  fire  a  warrior  painted  like  death,  beat  a  drum 
monotonously,  tump-a-tump,  tump-a-tump. 

Into  the  ellipse  a  stately  figure  abruptly  ad- 
vanced. He  faced  the  fire  and  the  cross  and  raised 
his  hands.  At  the  sign  two  young  warriors  slipped 
out  of  the  circle  of  braves  and  lifted  down  the  dogs 
from  the  cross  and  held  them  out.  The  priest  re- 
ceived them  with  reverence  and  laid  them  on  the  fire. 

For  an  instant  the  smell  of  burning  hair  filled  the 
glades ;  then  it  was  swallowed  up  in  the  stronger 


294  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

odor  of  the  dried  herbs  which  the  priest  sprinkled 
upon  the  flames. 

Then  he  began  to  chant,  and  the  encircling 
braves  took  up  the  refrain,  rolling  it  skyward  till 
the  bare  branches  overhead  quivered  and  the  water 
quaked  among  the  mosskegs  of  the  swamp. 

Our  forefathers  made  the  rule, 

And  they  said:  Here  shall  we  kindle  a  council  fire; 

Here  at  the  forest's  edge,  here  we  will  unite  with  each 

other, 
Here  we  will  grow  strong. 

We  are  losing  our  great  men.    Into  the  earth 

They  are  borne;  also  our  warriors; 

Also  our  women,  and  our  grandchildren  as  well; 

So  that  in  the  midst  of  blood 

We  are  sitting.     Now  therefore,  we  say, 

Unite,  wash  the  blood  stains  from  our  seat, 

So  that  we  may  be  for  a  time  strong  and  overruling. 

The  chant  died  away.  The  priest  disappeared. 
The  chieftain  whom  Jack  had  guessed  was  Tecum- 
seh  arose  and  strode  forward  till  he  stood  close 
above  the  embers  of  the  dying  fire.  Round  about 
the  circle  his  fierce  eyes  swept ;  for  an  instant  they 
rested  on  Jack's  face,  lighting  up,  perhaps  witli 
recognition ;  then  they  swept  on  till  they  met  those 
off  the  British  general. 

"  We  meet  here  between  the  camps  of  the  red- 
coats and  the  red  men,"  he  said.  "  We  meet  to  talk 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  295 

of  what  has  been  and  of  what  is  to  be.  Many  moons 
ago  the  great  white  king  across  the  sea  sent  word 
to  us  to  lift  the  hatchet  and  to  strike  the  Americans. 
He  sent  us  word  that  he  would  never  desert  us; 
that  he  would  give  us  back  our  ancient  lands ;  that 
he  would  not  make  peace  and  abandon  us  to  the 
vengeance  of  the  Seventeen  Fires.  We  dug  up  the 
hatchet.  We  fought  long  and  hard.  Again  and 
again  we  won  for  the  great  king  victories  that  with- 
out us  would  have  been  defeats.  In  every  struggle 
we  bore  the  sweat  of  the  fight.  When  the  Long 
Knives  came  to  Fort  Maiden  we  wished  to  strike 
them  and  send  them  howling  back.  But  the  white 
chief  said  no,  and  we  obeyed.  Again  and  again  he 
forced  us  to  retreat,  always  against  our  will.  Now 
he  wishes  to  retreat  once  more.  I  ask  him  if  this 
is  not  true." 

General  Proctor  did  not  rise.  He  looked  sullen 
and  careworn.  "  We  must  retreat,"  he  declared, 
irritably.  "  The  Americans  outnumber  us.  We 
can  not  stand  against  them  here." 

"  And  what  of  the  red  men?  "  Tecumseh's  tones 
grew  chill.  "  Our  villages  have  gone  up  in  smoke. 
Our  women  and  children  hide  in  the  forests.  Winter 
is  coming  on  quickly.  We  can  not  take  to  the 
waters  like  fish,  nor  live  in  the  forests  like  wolves, 
nor  hide  in  the  mud  of  the  swamps  like  snakes. 
Either  we  must  meet  the  Long  Knives  and  drive 
them  back  or  make  peace  with  them  and  save  what 


296  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

is  left  to  us.     The  white  chief  shall  not  retreat." 

General  Proctor  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  The 
white  chief  must  retreat.  Later " 

"  There  will  be  no  later.  The  white  chief  shall 
not  live  to  retreat.  Either  he  must  fight  the 
Americans  or  he  must  fight  Tecumseh  and  his  men. 
The  scalps  of  the  white  chief  and  his  soldiers  are 
still  upon  their  heads.  Let  him  look  to  it  that  to- 
morrow they  are  not  carried  as  an  offering  to  the 
chief  of  the  Seventeen  Fires." 

Proctor  sprang  to  his  feet.  He  was  shaking 
from  head  to  foot,  but  whether  from  anger  or  from 
fear  Jack  could  not  tell.  Several  times  he  tried  to 
speak  and  each  time  his  voice  failed.  At  last  the 
words  came.  "  Does  not  my  red  brother  know  why 
we  retreated  ?  "  he  cried.  "  Does  he  not  know  that 
it  was  because  our  red  allies  melted  away  from  us, 
leaving  us  outnumbered  by  the  men  of  the  Seven- 
teen Fires.  Even  while  I  speak  other  warriors  are 
slipping  away  in  the  night  to  make  peace  with  the 
Americans.  The  servants  of  the  great  king  are 
brave  and  strong.  But  they  are  too  few  to  fight 
alone.  If  my  red  brother  can  hold  his  men,  we  need 
not  retreat  farther.  We  will  meet  the  Americans 
and  drive  them  back  as  we  have  driven  them  so 
often  before.  Let  my  brother  speak." 

Tecumseh  bowed.  "  My  brother  is  wrong,*'  he 
declared.  "  The  red  men  have  not  deserted.  Nearly 
all  of  them  are  here,  ready  to  fight.  It  is  the 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  297 

white  men  who  would  retreat.  If  my  brother  will 
fight,  the  red  men  will  do  their  part.  I  offer  him 
my  hand  upon  it."  He  stepped  forward  and  held 
out  his  hand. 

General  Proctor  took  it.  "  It  is  well,"  he  said. 
"  Tomorrow  we  will  fight.  Now  break  up  the 
council." 

Tecumseh  waved  his  hand.  The  warrior  at  the 
witch-drum  began  to  beat,  tump-a-tump,  tump-a- 
tump.  From  the  crowding  braves  rose  a  chant,  low 
at  first,  but  swiftly  gaining  volume. 

Look  down,  oh !  gods,  look  upon  us !    We  gaze  afar  on 

your  dwelling. 
Look  down  while  here  we  are  standing,  look  down  upon 

us,  ye  mighty! 

Ye  thunder  gods,  now  behold  us ! 
Ye  lightning  gods,  now  behold  us ! 
Ye  that  bring  life,  now  behold  us! 
Ye  that  bring  death,  now  behold  us ! 
Aid  us  and  help  us.    For  we  fight  for  thee. 

Loud  and  wild  swelled  the  chant,  the  ritual  of 
the  tribesmen.  Then  it  slowly  died  away.  The 
ranks  of  standing  warriors  dissolved  and  vanished. 
The  white  men  marched  away,  General  Proctor  at 
their  head.  Jack  rose  to  follow,  but  as  he  did  so 
his  arms  were  grasped  on  either  side  and  he  was 
held  powerless.  "  White  man  stop,"  muttered  a 
gutteral  voice  in  his  ear.  "  Tecumseh  speak  with 
him." 


CHAPTER  XXIH 

THE  council  had  sat  long.  When  it  rose  the 
sky  was  pink  with  dawn,  and  the  velvety 
black  pall  that  had  edged  the  clearing  had 
changed  into  ranked  trees  and  underbrush.  The 
swampy  floor  beneath  lay  dull,  save  where  some 
lost  pool  gleamed  suddenly  silver.  Azure  mists 
curled  softly  upward.  To  the  east,  beyond  the 
edge  of  the  woods,  the  broad  meadow  glittered  with 
the  sparkling  dew- jewels  left  by  the  parting  night. 
Far  to  the  left  a  gleam  of  broken  silver  showed 
where  the  Thames  river  rolled. 

The  spot,  as  Tecumseh  had  said,  was  between  the 
Indian  and  the  British  lines.  It  lay  just  behind  the 
apex  of  an  obtuse  angle,  one  leg  of  which  ran  along 
the  edge  of  a  fringe  of  beech  trees  wherein  the 
British  were  entrenched.  The  other  leg  bordered 
the  narrow  marsh  where  the  Indians  waited.  Neither 
woods  nor  swamp  were  (deep  nor  dense.  Behind  them 
the  light  gleamed  through  glades  that  gave  upon  the 
open  country. 

Jack  made  no  attempt  to  escape.  He  knew 
it  would  be  useless.  Besides,  he  was  minded  to  play 
the  game  out.  He  had  come  for  his  wife,  and,  now 
that  day  had  come,  he  could  not  hope  to  find  her 
save  by  Tecumseh's  aid.  This  he  determined  to  in- 
298 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  299 

voke;  and  this,  in  spite  of  the  deadly  peril,  he  wel- 
comed the  chance  to  invoke.  After  all,  he  had  come 
to  Ohio  by  Tecumseh's  invitation.  He  had  some 
rights  which  even  a  savage  must  respect.  Almost 
eagerly  he  stepped  toward  the  place  where  Tecum- 
seh  waited. 

Abruptly  the  red  chief  raised  his  hand  and  the 
iron  arms  of  the  two  braves  caught  Jack  and  drag- 
ged him  back.  At  another  gesture  they  stepped 
before  him,  screening  him  from  the  sight  of  an 
officer,  clad  in  the  red  coat  of  the  British,  who  was 
striding  into  the  circle. 

Swiftly  the  officer  came  on,  and  Jack  saw  that  he 
was  Brito  Telfair.  Close  to  Tecumseh  he  halted, 
and  without  salutation  or  formality  he  spoke. 

"  Is  Tecumseh  a  coward  that  he  needs  the  help 
of  squaws  ?  "  he  demanded,  hotly.  "  Will  he  keep 
the  daughter  of  Delaroche  here  during  the  battle? 
Or  will  he  send  her  away  ?  " 

Tecumseh's  face  darkened.  His  hand  sprang  to 
the  hatchet  at  his  belt.  If  Brito  saw  it,  he  did  not 
heed. 

"  In  an  hour  a  wagon  with  wounded  starts  to  the 
rear,"  he  said.  "  Send  the  girl  with  it.  If  we  win 
today  you  can  find  her  again  and  protect  her.  If 
we  lose  she  will  be  safe.  Send  her  away,  I  beg  of 
you."  f 

Abruptly  the  man's  voice  broke.  "  You  needn't 
fear  me,"  he  said.  "  I  can't  leave  here,  and  you 


300  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

know  it.    But — but  a  battle  is  no  place  for  a  woman ! 
Send  her  where  she  will  be  safe." 

Tecumseh's  lips  moved.  "  I  will  consider,"  he 
promised.  "  Go  now  and  return  within  an  hour. 
Perhaps  I  will  let  the  Star  maiden  go." 

Brito  nodded  and  turned  away.  As  he  went  Jack 
felt  the  iron  grip  of  the  braves  tighten  upon  his 
arms,  forcing  him  forward. 

He  went  willingly  enough.  He  had  learned  that 
Alagwa  was  there,  in  the  camp,  and  he  swore  to 
himself  that  not  Tecumseh  nor  Brito  nor  all  the 
devils  from  h — 1  should  prevent  his  reaching  her. 

Coolly  he  faced  the  red  chieftain.  "  The  great 
chief  came  to  me  far  in  the  south,"  he  said,  de- 
liberately. "  He  called  me  and  I  came  a  long  trail 
to  meet  him.  He  did  not  wait  for  me,  and  I  have 
followed  him  here  to  receive  from  him  the  Star 
maiden,  my  kinswoman,  the  daughter  of  Delaroche. 
Will  the  great  chief  send  for  her?  " 

Long  Tecumseh  stared  the  young  man  in  the 
face.  At  last  his  lips  moved.  "  The  young  white 
chief  is  brave,"  he  said. 

Jack  shrugged  his  shoulders.  He  had  spoken 
as  he  did  in  the  hope  of  startling  his  captor.  He 
had  no  intention  of  pushing  the  pretense  too  far. 
"  The  white  chief  seeks  his  wife,"  he  said,  de- 
liberately. "  He  believes  she  is  in  Tecumseh's  camp. 
He  comes  to  demand  her." 

Tecumseh's  face  grew  even  grimmer.    "  Does  the 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  301 

white  chief  come  for  that  alone  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Or 
does  he  come  to  spy  out  the  camp  of  his  foes  ?  Make 
answer,  Te-pwe,  he  who  speaks  true." 

Jack  looked  the  chief  in  the  eyes.  He  knew  that 
deception  was  useless  and  he  was  in  no  mood  to  try 
it.  "  Tecumseh  may  judge  for  himself,"  he  said. 
"  Let  the  great  chief  do  with!  me  as  he  will.  But 
first  let  him  tell  me  whether  my  wife  is  with  him  and 
whether  she  is  safe." 

Tecumseh's  brows  went  up.  "  Why  need  the 
white  chief  seek  his  wife,"  he  demanded.  "  What 
wrong  has  he  done  her  that  she  has  fled  from  him  ?  " 

Jack  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  I  have  done  her 
no  wrong,"  he  said.  "  Why  she  has  left  me  I  do  not 
know.  I  was  ill  and  when  I  recovered  she  had  gone 
with  emissaries  sent  by  Tecumseh.  Perhaps  she 
went  because  he  sent  for  her.  Perhaps  she  went 
because  her  ears  were  filleVi  with  lies.  Much  I  have 
guessed  but  little  do  I  know.  Perhaps  the  great 
chief  knows  better  than  I  why  she  went." 

Tecumseh  did  not  answer  at  once.  His  fierce 
eyes  bored  into  Jack's  as  though  they  would  read 
the  young  man's  soul.  Jack  thought  his  expression 
was  softer,  but  when  he  spoke  his  voice  was  as  chill 
as  ever. 

"  Ten  years  and  more  ago,"  he  said,  "  when  the 
chief  Delaroche  lay  dying  I  gave  him  my  word  that 
if  the  need  ever  came  I  would  put  his  daughter  in 
the  care  of  his  kinsmen  in  the  far  south  and  not  in 


302  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

that  of  his  English  kinsmen.  Years  went  by  and  the 
call  came.  The  chief  Brito  demanded  her.  He  was 
a  redcoat  chief,  an  ally  of  Tecumseh,  and  you  were 
an  enemy.  He  was  a  strong  man  and  a  warrior  and 
you  were  a  boy.  Had  it  not  been  for  my  word  to  my 
friend  I  would  have  given  her  to  him  gladly.  But 
the  word  spoken  to  the  dead  comes  not  back.  There- 
fore I  sought  you  out  and  bade  you  come  for  the 
girl.  I  waited  long,  but  you  did  not  come.  Once 
more  I  tried  to  keep  my  word  to  my  friend.  I  sent 
the  girl  south,  into  your  lines.  I  thought  she  would 
find  you  and  she  did.  For  days  she  travelled  with 
you.  I  had  kept  my  word  to  my  dead  friend." 

The  day  was  brightening  fast.  The  sky  had 
grown  brilliant  with  pink,  and  scarlet,  and  saffron. 
The  sun  thrust  himself  above  the  rim  of  the  world 
and  sent  long  lances  of  light  shimmering  through 
the  damp  air.  The  trees  burned  red  against  the 
horizon ;  the  wet  underbrush  glistened  like  precious 
stones. 

Tecumseh's  voice  changed.  For  the  moment  it 
had  grown  softer,  but  now  it  grew  chill  as  death. 
"  Then  suddenly,"  he  said,  "  she  came  back  to  me. 
She  thought  that  I  had  sent  for  her.  I  had  not. 
Those  who  told  her  so  were  liars  bought  by  the  gold 
of  Brito.  Nevertheless  I  had  kept  my  word  and  I 
was  free  to  give  her  where  I  would.  Gladly  would 
I  have  given  her  to  Brito.  But  she  said  she  was 
your"  wife,  wedded  to  you  by  the  white  man's  law.  She 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  303 

said  she  would  die  before  she  would  go  to  Brito.  She 
begged  me  to  protect  her. 

"  I  did  protect  her.  I  did  not  understand.  So 
I  protected  her  until  I  could  understand.  She  had 
not  left  you  merely  because  she  thought  I  had  sent 
for  her.  Do  I  not  know  her  and  her  sex?  She 
loved  you  and  she  would  not  have  left  you  at  my 
call.  A  thousand  times  I  might  have  called  and  she 
would  not  have  come.  Some  other  cause  she  had. 
What  was  it?" 

Jack  shook  his  head.  "  I  do  not  know,"  he  said. 
**  Some  talk  there  was  about  a  letter  that  came  to 
me  at  the  instant  of  my  marriage.  I  know  nothing 
of  it.  I  do  not  even  remember  that  it  came.  When 
I  fell,  stricken  by  my  old  wound,  I  dropped  it  and 
an  enemy  of  mine  picked  it  up  and  read  something 
from  it.  I  do  not  know  what  it  was — what  it  could 
have  been.  I  do  not  even  know  that  Alagwa  heard 
it.  I  speak  of  it  only  because  I  know  of  no  other 
cause.  Has  she  not  told  you  why  she  left?  " 

"  She  has  told  me  nothing.  She  denied  that  you 
had  wronged  her.  She  swore  that  your  heart  was 
good  toward  her.  But  I  did  not  believe  her.  Wlien 
a  woman  loves  she  will  go  down  to  the  gates  of  h — 1 
to  Bring  up  lies  to  shield  her  beloved.  I  did  not 
believe  her.  But  she  was  the  daughter  of  my  friend 
and  to  me  it  fell  to  right  her  wrongs,  to  do  justice 
on  her  foes.  I  would  not  give  her  to  the  redcoat 
chief  so  long  as  you  lived.  I  would  not  slay  un- 


304  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

justly.  Therefore  I  gave  orders  to  take  you  alive 
that  I  might  question  you.  Others  also  I  sought  to 
capture,  learning  little  by  little  what  part  they  had 
in  my  daughter's  wrongs.  One  by  one  I  have  gath- 
ered up  the  threads  and  woven  them  into  the  bow- 
string of  my  vengeance.  At  the  last  you  have  come 
into  my  hand  like  a  bird  to  a  trap.  Now,  all  is 
ready.  Tomorrow  may  be  Tecumseh's  last  on  earth. 
But  tonight  he  has  power  and  will  do  justice." 

The  speaker  gestured  and  a  warrior  who  stood  by 
handed  a  blanket  to  Jack.  "  Wrap  yourself," 
ordered  the  chief,  "  and  sit  beside  the  fire.  Hide 
your  face  and  speak  not  till  I  give  you  leave." 

Greatly  wondering,  Jack  obeyed.  Nothing  that 
Tecumseh  said  gave  him  hope,  though  the  fact  that 
the  chief  had  said  anything  at  all  carried  some  little 
comfort.  Very  clearly  Tecumseh  would  have  been 
glad  to  give  Alagwa  to  Brito,  and  very  clearly  he 
had  only  to  take  Jack's  forfeited  life  to  make  it 
easy  to  carry  out  his  wishes.  On  the  other  hand 
if  he  meant  to  kill  he  could  do  so  with  fewer  words. 
With  mingled  hope  and  fear  the  American  waited. 

The  crackling  of  brush  beneath  a  hurrying  tread 
came  to  his  ears  and  he  looked  up. 

Through  the  woods  a  slim,  young  girl  was  com- 
ing swiftly.  A  moment  more  and  Alagwa  stepped 
into  the  circle  of  the  clearing  and  bowed  before  the 
great  chief.  "  My  father  has  sent  for  me,"  she 
said.  "  I  have  come." 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  305 

Jack's  heart  beat  fiercely  within  him.  This  was 
not  his  comrade  of  the  trails  nor  was  it  she  whom 
he  had  seen  for  a  few  brief  moments  on  that  event- 
ful night  eight  months  before.  Gone  were  the  man- 
nish garments  in  which  he  had  best  known  her. 
Gone  also  was  the  white  woman's  dress  in  which  she 
had  looked  so  fair.  In  their  place  she  wore  the 
doeskin  garb  of  an  Indian  maid,  draped  about  the 
shoulders  with  a  blanket.  The  strained  look  of 
anxiety  had  gone  from  her  eyes,  giving  place  to  a 
sorrow  too  deep  for  words.  Jack's  heart  throbbed 
with  desire  to  leap  to  his  feet  and  catch  her  in  his 
arms.  But,  mindful  of  Tecumseh's  words,  he  waited. 

The  great  chief  did  not  delay.  "  A  year  ago,"  he 
said,  "  Alagwa  came  to  Tecumseh,  leaving  the 
American  chief  to  whom  he  had  sent  her.  Tecumseh 
would  have  given  her  to  his  ally  Brito.  But  she 
swore  that  she  was  married  and  that  she  loved  her 
husband.  Tecumseh  would  not  take  back  his  gift 
to  the  American  chief  unless  it  were  flung  in  his 
teeth.  Alagwa  would  tell  him  nothing.  Therefore 
he  has  found  out  for  himself.  Little  by  little  he  has 
learned  all  her  story.  Tonight  he  is  ready  to  do 
justice.  Daughter  of  Delaroche!  Tecumseh's 
hatchet  lies  beneath  your  hand  to  strike  whom  you 
will.  The  young  white  chief  is  in  his  power.  Shall 
he  slay  him?  " 

The  girl's  face  whitened.  She  took  a  step  back- 
20 


306  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

ward,  catching  at  her  heart.  "  Jack !  "  she  whisp- 
ered. "  Jack  !  He  is  here?  " 

"  He  is  here.  What  shall  Tecumseh  do  with  him  ? 
Shall  he  send  him  to  the  stake?  " 

The  girl's  lips  parted;  her  eyes  widened  with 
horror.  Then  she  dropped  upon  her  knees  at 
Tecumseh's  feet.  "No!  No !"  she  gasped.  "Oh! 
God!  Not  that!  Tecumseh  will  not,  shall  not.  do- 
that.  If  ever  Tecumseh  loved  Alagwa  let  him  hear 
her  prayer.  Let  the  young  white  chief  go  and  send 
Alagwa  to  the  stake  in  his  place." 

"  But  he  wronged  you." 

"  He  wronged  me  not.  He  was  ever  good  and 
kind.  He  wronged  me  not."  The  words  were  a 
wail.  "  Believe  me,  great  chief !  " 

Relentlessly  Tecumseh  faced  her  down.  "  Why 
then  did  you  leave  him?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Because  he  loved  me  not.  He  never  pretended 
to  love  me.  He  married  me  to  save  my  good  name. 
I — I — "  The  girl  gasped,  then  went  proudly  on — 
"  I  loved  him  and  I  thought  his  heart  was  free.  So 
I  married  him.  Then  at  the  moment  came  a  letter 
from  his  home  by  the  far  southern  seas.  He  read  it, 
his  eyes  widened  with  horror,  and  he  fell  senseless. 
As  I  bent  over  him  a  man  standing  near  caught  up 
the  letter  and  read  from  it  that  the  maid  he  had 
loved  was  free  and  was  calling  for  him.  Then  I 
knew  why  he  looked  at  me  as  he  did.  He  did  not 
mean  to  do  it.  He  was  too  good,  too  kind,  too 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  307 

noble.  He  would  never  have  looked  at  me  so  again. 
But  I  had  learned  the  truth.  He  had  no  place  for 
me  in  his  life  or  his  heart.  The  surgeon  at  the  fort 
said  he  would  soon  recover.  I  thought  you  had 
sent  for  me.  So  I  left  him  to  come  to  you.  Nothing 
else  was  left.  But  he  did  me  no  wrong.  He  did  me 
no  wrong.  He  did  me  no  wrong — "  The  girl's 
voice  died  away  in  inarticulate  murmurs. 

The  woods  had  grown  very  still.  The  dead  leaves 
rustled  along  the  ground  and  the  saplings  murmured 
as  they  trembled  in  the  caress  of  the  vagrant  breeze. 
But  no  man  moved  or  spoke. 

Crouching  upon  the  ground  Alagwa  waited,  look- 
ing up  at  Tecumseh  with  beseeching  eyes. 

Jack  groaned  as  he  watched  the  anguish  that 
marred  the  exquisite  oval  of  her  face,  stealing  the 
color  from  her  cheeks  and  leaving  them  pallid 
against  the  brown  background  of  the  woods.  But 
he  was  very  sure  that  Tecumseh  was  not  acting 
without  a  cause,  and  he  dared  not  speak  lest  he 
should  spoil  some  well-laid  plan. 

Slowly  Tecumseh  spoke.  "  Alagwa  knew  not  the 
writing  of  the  white  man,"  he  said.  "  Lately  she 
has  learned  it,  but  then  she  knew  it  not.  How  knows 
she  that  the  man  read  with  a  true  tongue?  How 
knows  she  that  he  did  not  lie?  JYas  he  so  great  a 
friend  of  hers  ?  " 

Alagwa  sprang  to  her  feet.  Her  hands  tightened 
till  the  knuckles  gleamed  white  in  the  morning  light. 


308  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

"  Friend !  "  she  gasped.  "  He  was  no  friend.  He 
was  an  enemy.  It  was  he  who  murdered  Wil- 
wiloway."  She  paused;  then — "Did — did  he  lie? 
Oh!  God!  Did  he  lie?" 

"  Perhaps ! "  Tecumseh  pointed  to  a  place  on 
his  left.  "  Let  my  daughter  sit  beside  me  and  hide 
her  face  in  her  blanket  and  keep  silence  till  Tecum- 
seh bids  her  speak." 

Alagwa  sat  down.  As  she  did  so  her  eyes  fell 
on  the  draped  figure  at  the  great  chief's  right. 
From  its  folds  two  eyes  gleamed  at  her,  signalling  a 
message  of  comfort  and  of  love.  Telepathy  was  far 
in  the  future — its  very  name  was  yet  unborn — but 
the  girl  read  the  message  and  was  comforted. 

Then  she  straightened  up  with  a  gasp.  Williams, 
under  guard,  had  come  through  the  woods  and  stood 
before  the  great  chief.  Jack  remembered  that  he 
had  been  missing  since  the  massacre  at  the  River 
Raisin 

The  man's  face  was  drawn  and  pale.  Clearly,  his 
captivity  had  not  been  light.  Round  him  he  glanced 
with  quick,  furtive  eyes,  seeking  hope  and  finding 
none. 

Long  Tecumseh  stared  him  in  the  eyes.  At  last 
he  stretched  out  his  hand,  holding  a  soiled  and 
deeply  creased  letter.  "  This  was  taken  from  you 
when  you  were  captured,"  he  sard.  "  Read  it  aloud. 
And  take  care  you  read  it  true." 

Williams's  eyes  narrowed.     Despite  the  chilliness 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  309 

of  the  dawn,  beads  of  perspiration  crept  out  upon 
his  forehead.  Furtively  he  looked  around  him,  as  if 
fearing  to  see  some  accuser.  Then  he  took  the  let- 
ter and  stared  at  it. 

"Read!"  thundered  the  chieftain.  "Read! 
And  read  true !  " 

Williams  moistened  his  dry  lips.  At  last  he 
spoke.  "  I  don't  know  how  to  read,"  he  mumbled. 

Jack  leaned  forward,  every  nerve  tense.  He  did 
not  need  to  be  told  that  the  letter  was  the  one 
he  had  lost,  the  one  from  which  Williams  had  read 
the  words  that  had  sent  his  bride  of  an  hour  fleeing 
into  the  night.  Some  disclosure  was  coming;  he 
read  it  in  the  trader's  frightened  eyes  and  in 
Tecumseh's  deadly  mien.  What  would  it  be?  His 
blood  ran  cold  as  he  waited. 

Chill  as  death  came  the  great  chiefs  voice. 
"  Surely  the  white  man  errs,"  he  said.  "  A  year 
ago  he  read  from  this  very  letter  a  message  from  a 
maid  dwelling  in  the  far  south." 

Williams's  courage  deserted  him.  His  whole  figure 
seemed  to  crumple.  Clearly  he  remembered  that 
the  Shawnees  were  Alagwa's  friends.  "  I  didn't 
read  nothin',"  he  whined.  "  I  was  only  jokin'.  That 
fellow  Jack  done  me  a  dirty  trick  and  he  hit  me 
when  I  wasn't  lookin'  and  I  wanted  to  get  even. 
I  reckoned  he  had  a  sweetheart  down  south  and  I 
made  up  something  about  her  and  let  on  that  it  was 
in  the  letter.  I  didn't  mean  no  harm.  I  reckoned 


310 


he'd  get  well  and  read  the  letter  and  make  it  all  right 
with  the  girl.  How  was  I  to  know  she'd  run  off 
right  away?  " 

"  You  cur ! "  Heedless  of  Tecumseh's  possible 
wrath  Jack  hurled  himself  at  the  trader.  But  be- 
fore his  gripping  fingers  could  fasten  upon  the 
other's  throat  the  two  braves  stepped  between,  forc- 
ing him  backward.  A  second  later  Alagwa  slipped 
to  his  side  and  clasped  his  hand  in  hers. 

Absorbed  in  the  scene  none  saw  Brito  Telfair 
come  through  the  woods  to  the  edge  of  the  clearing 
and  stand  there,  watching  the  scene  with  gleaming 
eyes. 

Meanwhile  Tecumseh  was  speaking.  "  Tecumseh 
does  not  kill  prisoners,*'  he  said.  "  He  challenges 
any  white  man  to  say  that  he  has  ever  taken 
vengeance  on  the  helpless.  He  has  spared  even 
snakes  in  the  grass,  lying  and  treacherous.  But, 
like  the  chiefs  of  all  nations,  Tecumseh  punishes 
murder."  He  turned  to  Williams.  "  You  dog,"  he 
grated.  "  A  year  ago  you  murdered  Wilwiloway, 
friend  of  Tecumseh.  You  shot  him  down  without 
cause,  in  cold  blood,  when  he  was  making  the  peace 
sign.  For  that  I  have  doomed  you.  I  have  let  you 
live  only  that  you  might  say  what  you  have  said 
today.  Now  you  die."  He  waved  his  hand  to  the 
guards.  "  Take  him  away,"  he  ordered.  "  Let 
his  end  be  swift." 

The  guard  closed  in,  but  the  doomed  man  flung 


THE  WAKD  OF  TECUMSEH  311 

himself  at  Jack's  feet.  "  For  God's  sake  don't  let 
them  kill  me !  "  he  screamed.  "  For  God's  sake !  " 
He  clutched  at  Jack's  feet.  "  Here's  your  letter," 
he  jabbered,  forcing  it  into  the  other's  hand.  "  You 
can  show  it  to  her  and  make  everything  right.  But 
for  God's  sake  save  me.  You're  a  white  man,  not 
an  Injun.  Save  me !  Don't  let  these  devils  murder 
me." 

Jack's  fury  died.  The  indefinable  bond  between 
white  and  white,  the  bond  that  has  lifted  the  race 
above  all  other  races  of  the  world,  tugged  at  him. 
After  all,  Williams  was  a  white  man ;  murderer 
though  he  was,  he  was  a  white  man.  Forgetful  that 
he  too  was  a  prisoner,  a  detected  spy,  Jack  turned 
to  the  chief. 

But  before  he  could  speak  Tecumseh  raised  his 
hand.  "  Tecumseh  does  justice,"  he  said.  "  He 
does  it  both  to  his  foes  and  to  his  friends.  The 
wrong  this  man  did  to  Alagwa  has  been  healed.  But 
the  wrong  he  did  to  Wilwiloway  has  not  been  paid. 
He  is  a  murderer ;  he  will  die  for  it."  He  waved  his 
hand.  "  Take  him  away,"  he  ordered. 

The  guards  plucked  Williams  from  the  ground 
and  marched  away  with  him. 

Then  Brito  came  forward,  jauntily.  He  glanced 
at  Jack,  and  triumph  shone  in  his  eyes. 

"  Great  is  Tecumseh's  justice,"  he  said.  "  Con- 
fidently I  appeal  to  it." 

Not  a  muscle  in  the  chief's  face  changed.     "  Let 


312  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

the  servant  of  the  white  king  speak,"  he  directed, 
calmly. 

Brito's  eyes  grew  steely.  "  The  hour  that 
Tecumseh  fixed  has  passed,"  he  said.  "  I  came  back 
to  receive  his  word.  I  find  with  him  an  American 
dog,  dressed  in  the  coat  of  the  King's  soldiers. 
Either  he  comes  as  a  spy,  whose  life  is  forfeit,  or 
he  comes  to  offer  Tecumseh  the  price  of  treachery, 
to  buy  him  to  desert  the  King  and  join  the  Ameri- 
cans. Which  is  it?  If  he  comes  as  a  spy  I  demand 
in  the  King's  name  that  Tecumseh  surrender  him  to 
me  to  be  dealt  with  as  a  spy.  If  he  comes  to  buy 
Tecumseh  let  the  red  chief  declare  himself  now." 

Brito  spoke  boldly.  Whatever  his  faults  he  was 
no  coward.  Unflinchingly  he  gazed  into  Tecum- 
seh's  eyes. 

Jack's  heart  sank.  Every  word  that  Brito  said 
was  true.  By  all  the  laws  of  war  his  life  was  forfeit. 
If  the  Englishman  had  not  appeared  Tecumseh 
might  have  spared  him  for  Alagwa's  sake.  But 
would  he  dare  to  spare  him  now  and  let  himself  rest 
under  the  imputation  of  treachery  that  Brito  had 
hurled  into  his  teeth?  Jack  doubted  it  greatly. 
But  he  strove  to  meet  his  enemy's  eyes  composedly 
and  not  to  betray  the  terror  with  which  he  waited. 

He  had  not  long  to  wait.  Deliberately  the  red 
chief  ignored  Brito's  accusation.  Coolly  he  an- 
swered. "  Captain  Telfair  ask,s  justice,"  he  said, 
slowly.  "  He  shall  have  it.  But  the  American  chief 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  313 

shall  have  it  also.  He  came  to  Tecumseh's  camp 
to  demand  his  wife.  Tecumseh  will  not  slay  him  or 
let  him  be  slain.  He  has  need  of  him.  He  will  send 
him  back  to  his  own  people  with  a  message  to  the 
chief  of  the  Seventeen  Fires." 

Hand  in  hand  Jack  and  Alagwa  waited.  They 
spoke  no  words ;  they  needed  to  speak  none.  They 
looked  each  other  in  the  eyes  and  were  content. 

Tecumseh  went  on  slowly.  "  Tecumseh  kept  his 
word  once  to  his  dead  friend,"  he  said.  "  He  is 
under  no  pledge  to  give  the  Star  maiden  to  the 
American  chief  again.  But  " — the  chief  paused : 
slowly  his  eyes  traversed  the  startled  group — "  but 
he  may  take  her  himself  if  he  dares  and  if  he  can. 
The  Star  maiden  shall  go  now,  at  once,  in  the 
British  chief's  wagon,  to  the  rear.  There  she  will 
wait." 

The  chieftain  paused  and  pointed  upward  to  the 
sun,  which  was  just  climbing  above  the  tops  of  the 
trees.  Then  he  faced  Jack. 

"  The  day  passes  swiftly,"  he  said.  "  Go  back 
to  your  general  and  tell  him  that  Tecumseh  sends 
him  greeting  as  one  brave  man  to  another  and  chal- 
lenges him  to  combat.  Tell  him  that  the  redcoats 
and  red  men  are  united  and  wait  to  give  him  battle. 
Tell  him  that — tell  him  what  you  will.  You  can  tell 
him  nothing  but  what  Tecumseh  wishes  him  to  know. 
But  tell  him  to  hasten.  Your  way  to  the  Star 
maiden  lies  across  my  lines.  Till  sunset  Tecumseh 


314  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

will  protect  her.  Afterwards,  you  must  protect  her 
yourself.  If  you  pass  our  lines  you  may  clasp  her 
in  your  arms  before  the  sun  sets.  I  have  spoken ! 
Go!" 

Brito  had  listened  in  silence.  He  attempted  no 
protest.  He  made  no  further  accusation  of 
treachery.  Instead,  he  bowed.  "  I  am  stationed 
at  the  very  center  of  the  British  part  of  our  lines, 
my  dear  cousin,"  he  said ;  "  I  will  await  you  there. 
Fail  not — or  it  will  be  I  who  will  clasp  the  Star 
maiden  in  my  arms  this  night." 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

TECUMSEH  had  chosen  well  the  ground  where 
he  had  forced  Proctor  to  stand  at  bay.  The 
River  Thames,  running  between  high  pre- 
cipitous banks,  protected  his  left  flank,  and  a  great 
marsh  nearly  parallel  to  the  river  protected  his 
right.  He  could  be  reached  only  by  a  direct  frontal 
attack,  during  which  the  Americans  would  be  con- 
tinually under  fire.  Midway  between  river  and 
swamp  was  a  smaller  swamp,  almost  impassable.  The 
only  road  ran  close  along  the  river;  the  rest  of  the 
space  between  swamp  and  river  was  a  park-like  ex- 
panse thinly  set  with  great  trees,  beech,  sugar 
maple,  and  oak.  Beneath  them  the  ground  was 
bare,  save  where  trees  had  fallen.  Any  enemy  who 
might  advance  across  it  must  infallibly  have  his 
columns  broken  and  would  yet  be  exposed  to  volley 
fire,  against  which  the  trees  would  offer  little  or  no 
protection. 

Beyond  this  park,  at  the  edge  of  a  thicket  of 
beech,  the  British  regulars  were  posted  on  a  line 
running  from  the  river  to  the  smaller  swamp.  Their 
artillery  was  placed  so  as  to  sweep  the  river  road. 
Tecumseh  and  his  warriors  held  the  line  between  the 
two  swamps  and  along  the  front  of  the  larger 
swamp,  ready  to  pour  an  enfilading  fire  on  the 

315 


316  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

American  flank  and  to  charge  upon  its  rear  the 
moment  it  pressed  too  far  forward  in  its  attack. 
One  false  move,  one  error,  and  the  disaster  of  the 
River  Raisin  might  be  repeated.  But  this  time  a 
real  soldier  was  in  command. 

It  was  long  past  noon  when  the  American  regi- 
ments swung  out  of  the  underbrush  that  had  screened 
their  movements  onto  the  broad  park-like  expanse 
that  rolled  to  the  edge  of  the  beech  wood  and  the 
swamp  where  their  foes  waited. 

Over  the  sun-drenched  fields  and  through  the  pleas- 
ant woods  they  held  their  way,  thrashing  through 
the  tall  grass,  crushing  the  underbrush  beneath 
their  columned  tread.  Their  slanting  flags,  whip- 
ping in  the  rising  breeze,  revealed  the  stripes  and 
the  soaring  stars  and  flaunted  the  regimental 
symbols.  On  the  right  were  the  regulars  of  the 
25th  infantry,  one  hundred  and  twenty  strong,  grim, 
well-drilled  men  who  marched  with  a  precision  not 
found  among  the  volunteers.  In  the  center  and  on 
the  left  were  the  Kentucky  volunteers,  headed  by 
Johnson's  cavalry,  burning  to  avenge  the  butchery 
of  their  kindred  at  the  River  Raisin.  Above  them 
the  bayonets  flashed  back  the  sunlight. 

Steadily  they  advanced.  The  distance  was  still 
too  great  for  musketry  fire,  but  it  was  lessening 
every  instant.  The  British  howitzers,  too,  were 
waiting,  masked  behind  their  leafy  screen. 

A  far-off  report  broke  the  silence.     A  mound  of 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  317 

white  erected  itself  at  the  end  of  the  river  road  and 
a  howitzer  ball  hummed  along  it.  Along  the  edge  of 
the  beech  wood  ran  the  crackle  of  small  arms.  From 
the  swamp  on  the  left  came  the  enfilading  fire  of  the 
Indians.  A  private  in  Desha's  regiment  fell  forward 
and  lay  upon  his  face,  motionless.  A  sergeant  a 
hundred  feet  away  doubled  up  with  a  grunt. 

Steadily  the  volunteers  swung  forward  to  where 
the  westering  sun  shone  red  across  the  red  and 
yellow  carpet  that  autumn's  winds  had  strewn.  As 
they  marched  they  sang,  at  first  low,  then  with  a 
swing  that  rose  terribly  to  the  skies : 

Scalps  are  bought  at  stated  prices, 

Proctor  pays  the  price  in  gold. 
Freemen,  no  more  bear  such  slaughters, 

Rouse  and  smite  the  faithless  foe. 

Most  of  the  victims  of  the  River  Raisin  had  been 
Kentuckians;  it  was  meet  and  proper  that  Ken- 
tuckians  should  avenge  them  at  the  Thames. 

Jack  was  far  in  advance  of  the  troops.  Familiar 
with  the  ground  from  his  adventure  of  the  night 
before,  he  knew  where  to  look  for  the  enemy's  lines 
and  could  venture  nearer  to  them  than  any  other 
scout.  He  had  left  his  horse  behind,  well  out  of 
danger,  and  had  crept  forward  on  foot,  closer  and 
closer,  determined  to  learn  in  what  order  the  British 
designed  to  meet  the  attack.  Nearer  and  nearer 
he  crept,  flat  on  the  ground,  worming  his  way.  At 


318  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

last,  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  trees  he  saw  the 
crossed  white  on  red  that  marked  the  British 
soldiers.  Detail  after  detail  he  noted;  then,  when 
a  bugle  at  the  rear  told  him  that  the  Americans 
were  advancing,  he  began  to  worm  backward. 

At  his  horse  at  last,  he  leaped  to  the  saddle  and 
drove  the  spurs  deep,  heading  for  the  spot  where 
the  ringing  bugle  was  sounding  the  advance. 

General  Harrison,  surrounded  by  his  staff,  stood 
watching.  "  Now's  the  time,"  he  muttered. 

"  Trumpeter !     Sound  the "     He  broke  off,  as 

a  scout  came  dashing  toward  him. 

It  was  Jack.  "  General ! "  he  clamored. 
"  They're  in  two  lines  in  open  order." 

Harrison  started.  "  In  open  order !  "  he  cried. 
"  You're  mad." 

"  No !  It's  true !  I've  been  within  a  hundred 
yards  of  them.  It's  true!  I  swear  it." 

Another  horseman  wearing  the  shoulder  straps  of 
a  major  dashed  up.  "General!"  he  cried. 
"  They're  in  open  order.  I've  just — — 

*'  Enough !  "  Harrison  spun  around.  "  By  God ! 
We've  got  them !  Mr.  Telfair,  tell  Colonel  Johnson 
my  orders  are  to  charge  home."  He  swung  around. 
"  Maj  or  Wood,  tell  Colonel  Trotter  the  plans  have 
been  changed.  Colonel  Johnson  will  attack  on  horse- 
back and  the  infantry  will  support  him.  Go !  " 

Ten  minutes  later  the  Kentucky  cavalry  rode 
into  the  narrowing  neck  between  the  river  and  the 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  319 

small  swamp.  As  they  crowded  in,  the  space  grew 
too  small  for  effective  manoeuvres.  Colonel  R.  H. 
Johnson,  afterward  to  be  elected  vice-president  of 
the  United  States,  rode  at  the  head  of  the  left-hand 
squadron,  naked  saber  resting  against  his  shoulder. 
He  noticed  the  constriction  and  called  to  his 
brother,  commanding  the  right-hand  column. 
"  Say,  Jim,"  he  cried.  "  You  handle  the  British. 
I'll  cross  the  swamp  and  tackle  Tecjumseh."  He 
turned  to  his  men.  "  Column  left,"  he  ordered. 

Jack,  defiant  of  the  rule  that  bade  him  rejoin 
General  Harrison,  once  his  message  had  been  de- 
livered, had  followed  close  at  Colonel  Johnson's 
heels.  Now,  he  sped  across  to  those  of  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  James  Johnson. 

"  Attention ! "  James's  voice  rang  above  the 
thudding  hoofs.  "  By  troops !  Right  front  into 
line.  March." 

The  shimmering  column  broke  up,  dividing  into 
four.  "  Forward !  Steady !  Right  dress.  For- 
ward !  "  Quickly  the  orders  followed. 

James  faced  about.  "  Advance  rifles,"  he  or- 
dered; and  the  muskets  rattled  as  they  fell  into 
position. 

The  woods  in  front  were  veiled  in  smoke.  The 
rattle  of  small  arms  was  incessant.  The  screech 
of  bullets  filled  the  air.  Here  and  there  a  man  fell 
forward,  clutching  at  his  horse's  neck.  Here  and 


320  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

there  one  swayed  and  crashed  to  the  ground.  Over 
all  the  sunlight  pulsed  in  bands  of  fire. 

Coolly  James's  voice  arose.  "  Hold  your  fire  till 
you  can  see  the  whites  of  their  eyes,"  he  ordered. 
"  Then  give  'em  h — 1."  He  waved  his  sword.  "  For- 
ward !  Gallop  !  "  he  cried. 

The  pace  quickened.  The  ground  was  becoming 
more  open  and  the  enemy's  bullets  were  coming 
faster.  But  the  Americans  did  not  fire.  They 
could  not  see  the  foe  in  the  tangled  thicket  ahead 
of  them,  and  they  had  no  shots  to  waste. 

"  Form  for  attack !  By  fours !  Right  front  into 
line!  March!" 

The  columns  broke  up,  changing,  as  if  by  magic, 
into  a  long  double  line  of  horsemen,  galloping  to- 
ward the  smoking  woods. 

"  Forward !    Remember  the  Raisin !    Charge !  " 

The  trumpets  sounded  and  from  the  crowding 
horsemen  rose  a  yell.  "  Remember  the  Raisin ;  " 
loud  and  thrilling  the  cry  echoed  back  from  the 
woods.  The  horses  sprang  forward,  furious  with 
the  battle  clangor. 

Still  the  Americans  (did  not  fire.  Their  first 
weapon  was  the  running  horse ;  against  the  enemy's 
lines  they  hurled  him.  Later  they  would  use  their 
muskets  and  the  long  pistols  that  hung  at  their 
belts. 

At  the  front  rode  Johnson.  Neck  and  neck  with 
him  rode  Jack,  heading  for  the  very  center  of  the 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  321 

British  line.  Not  for  all  the  devils  in  h — 1  would  he 
have  fallen  back  an  inch. 

For  a  moment  blinding  smoke  filled  his  eyes. 
Right  and  left  ran  the  red  flash  of  the  British  rifles. 
Then  he  was  among  the  trees,  plunging  through  a 
line  of  redcoated  men,  who  reeled  and  ran,  throw- 
ing down  their  guns  as  they  went.  "  Quarter  J 
Quarter ! "  The  cry  rang  loud  above  the  crash 
of  falling  arms. 

Jack  did  not  heed  it.  A  second  line,  fringed  with 
flames,  was  rising  behind  the  first.  Midway  of  it, 
through  the  smoke,  he  saw  Brito's  face.  At  it  he 
drove.  "  Wait  for  me,"  he  yelled. 

But  Brito  did  not  wait.  Before  the  rush  of  the 
maddened  horses  the  second  line  was  breaking  up, 
dissolving  into  fragments.  To  wait  was  to  sur- 
render or  to  die,  and  Brito  had  no  mind  for  either. 
Probably  he  did  not  hear  Jack's  challenge.  Cer- 
tainly he  did  not  wait.  As  the  line  dissolved  he 
turned  and  fled,  bending  low  upon  his  horse's  neck. 

Jack  glanced  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left. 
His  eyes  were  fixed  only  on  his  foe.  For  an  instant 
the  roar  of  battle  rose  around  him.  Rifles  flashed 
in  his  face.  Men  struck  at  him  with  sabers  and 
clubbed  guns.  Then  he  was  out  of  the  ruck,  crash- 
ing through  the  autumn  woods.  Saplings  lashed  at 
him  with  stinging  strokes.  Low-hung  branches 
scraped  his  horse's  back,  dragging  at  him.  Thickets, 
seemingly  impassable,  broke  before  the  impetus  of 
21 


322  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

his  rush.  Then,  abruptly  the  roar  of  battle  died 
away.  The  flickering  rifle  flames  vanished. 

Then  far  to  his  left  a  second  roar  arose ;  Jack  did 
not  know  it,  but  it  was  Colonel  Johnson  and  his 
first  squadron  striking  the  Indian  line,  and  it 
sounded  the  knell  of  the  great  chief,  Tecumseh. 
Jack  paid  no  attention  to  it;  heart  and  soul  alike 
were  concentrated  on  the  rider  whose  red  coat  he 
saw  far  ahead  through  the  packed  woods.  Reck- 
lessly he  spurred. 

After  a  time  the  woods  opened  and  he  saw  his 
enemy  clearer.  He  was  gaining  rapidly,  too 
rapidly.  He  was  in  no  haste  to  bring  his  foe  to  bay. 
His  horse,  a  bright  bay,  bred  in  Kentucky  and 
brought  north  with  Johnson's  regiment,  had  come 
through  the  short,  sharp  battle  without  a  wound 
•and  was  in  perfect  condition,  well  rested,  and 
capable  both  of  long  pursuit  and  o-f  extraordinary 
bursts  of  speed  when  need  should  arise.  He  knew 
nothing  of  Brito's  horse,  except  the  patent  fact 
that  it  was  a  big  black  that  seemed  to  carry  its 
heavy  rider  with  ease,  but  he  had  little  doubt  that 
his  own  was  better.  Almost  at  will  he  could  close  in 
and  sooner  or  later  he  meant  to  do  so  and  to  balance 
the  long-due  account  between  himself  and  Brito. 
But  he  did  not  know  where  Alagwa  was.  Brito 
did.  Therefore  Brito  should  lead  him  to  her. 

For  a  long  time  he  galloped  on,  keeping  his  dis- 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  323 

tance  behind  the  fleeing  Englishman,  and  availing 
himself  of  every  bit  of  cover  to  screen  himself  from 
observation,  though  he  had  little  fear  that  Brito 
would  suspect  his  identity.  He  guessed,  what  he 
afterwards  learned  to  be  a  fact,  that  nearly  all  the 
British  officers  who  possessed  horses  were  using  them 
to  escape;  General  Proctor,  for  instance,  fled 
sixty-five  miles  without  a  halt.  If  Brito  should 
see  him  he  was  far  more  likely  to  think  him  a  brother 
officer  and  to  halt  and  wait  for  him  than  to  suspect 
that  an  American  had  dared  to  venture  so  far  be- 
hind the  British  lines  even  after  the  distinction  of 
the  British  army. 

The  chase  went  on.  The  sun  was  dropping  to- 
ward the  west  and  dusk  was  creeping  over  the 
brown  fields  and  low  tree-crowned  sandy  ridges.  Al- 
ready a  veil  of  deep  blue  shadow  lay  on  the  land. 
Soon  it  would  be  night.  The  moon,  high  overhead, 
a  pale  ghost  in  the  daylit  sky,  might  or  might  not 
illumine  the  darkness.  Jack  shook  his  reins  and 
his  bay  responded  gloriously,  cutting  down  by  half 
the  interval  between  himself  and  Brito's  black. 

Steadily  the  fugitive  drove  on.  Deserted  farm- 
houses swept  by;  thickets  rose  and  passed;  but  he 
showed  no  signs  of  stopping.  Anxiously  Jack 
glanced  at  the  darkening  west.  Soon  he  must  bring 
the  other  to  bay  or  risk  losing  him.  Could  he  have 
judged  wrong?  Could  Brito  be  merely  fleeing  to 


324  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

save  himself,  careless  of  Alagwa?  Could  she  be 
already  far  behind?  Jack's  heart  sank  at  the 
thought.  Should  he  close  in  and  have  done  with  it? 

As  he  hesitated  Brito  turned  abruptly  aside,  urg- 
ing his  horse  toward  the  crest  of  a  low  ridge  that 
rose  to  the  north.  An  instant  later  he  vanished 
into  the  fringe  of  trees  that  crowned  it. 

Jack's  anxiety  swelled  uncontrollably.  For  the 
first  time  he  used  the  spur,  and  the  bay  responded 
nobly,  turning  into  the  narrow  wood  road  that 
Brito  had  followed  and  tearing  up  the  slope  and 
crashing  into  the  fringe  of  trees  like  a  tornado. 
He,  like  his  master,  seemed  to  guess  that  the  long 
chase  was  nearing  its  end. 

Jack  leaned  forward,  listening  with  all  his  ears. 
Sight  no  longer  aided  him  and  he  could  depend  only 
on  hearing,  and  this  availed  him  little.  The  snap- 
ping branches,  the  hollow  thunder  of  his  horse's 
hoofs,  the  rustling  of  the  night  wind  in  the  trees, 
the  laboring  breathing  of  his  own  steed,  drowned 
all  more  distant  sounds.  Jack  set  his  teeth  hard. 

Over  the  crest  of  the  ridge  he  passed  and  thun- 
dered down  the  opposite  slope.  Then  in  a  moment  the 
woods  broke  sharply  off,  opening  to  right  and  to 
left,  and  he  found  himself  on  the  edge  of  a  wide, 
open  space  in  which  stood  a  farmhouse.  Before  it, 
just  drawing  his  horse  to  a  halt,  was  Brito. 

Jack  halted,  reining    in    and    leaning  forward, 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  325 

every  nerve  thrilling.  Was  it  the  place  ?  Had  Brito 
led  him  true? 

A  crowd  of  men  and  women  came  pouring  from 
the  farmhouse  door.  With  staring  eyes  Jack 
watched,  counting  them  as  they  came.  Two  men, 
five  women,  as  many  children,  then — then — last  of 
all  came  Alagwa. 

Jack  shouted  aloud — a  great  shout  that  startled 
the  sleepy  birds.  He  had  found  her.  His  hour  had 
come. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

AT  JACK'S  shout  Brito  looked  up.  Then 
he,  too,  cried  out  and  settled  himself  back 
in  the  saddle. 

Slowly  the  two  rode  toward  each  other,  pistols 
in  hand.  Between  them  lay  the  hard-trampled  level 
of  the  cattle  yard.  The  sun  had  dropped  behind 
the  trees ;  the  moon  had  not  yet  gathered  power ;  no 
confusing  shadows  offered  advantage  to  either. 

Suddenly  Brito  flung  up  his  pistol  and  fired. 
Jack  felt  his  hat  torn  from  his  head  and  saw  it  go 
sailing  to  the  ground.  He  threw  up  his  own  pistol. 
Then  he  hesitated ;  Alagwa  and  the  women  and  chil- 
dren were  directly  behind  his  foe.  He  dared  not 
fire. 

As  he  hesitated  Brito  flung  down  his  useless  pistol 
and  spurred  at  him,  saber  flashing  as  he  came. 
Jack  reined  back;  his  horse  reared,  striking  with 
its  hoofs,  and  Brito's  black  shied  to  the  left  and 
rushed  by,  Brito's  blade  singing  harmlessly  in  the 
air  as  he  passed. 

The  two  men  wheeled.  They  had  changed  places ; 
Jack's  back  was  toward  the  farmhouse.  Again 
he  raised  his  pistol.  His  finger  curled  about  the 
trigger. 

Brito  paused  and  his  face  whitened.  Then  he 
326 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  327 

cried  out,  jeering.  "  Shoot,  you  cur !  "  he  shrieked. 
"  Shoot,  you  d — d  American !  Shoot  an  un- 
armed man  if  you  dare.  No  Englishman  would  take 
such  an  advantage.  This  isn't  war;  it's  a  private 
quarrel.  If  you're  not  all  cur,  if  there's  any  Tel-* 
fair  blood  in  your  veins,  throw  down  that  pistol 
and  fight  on  equal  terms  like  a  man." 

Jack  hesitated.  Brito  had  had  his  shot  and  had 
missed.  He  was  talking  merely  to  save  his  life; 
his  taunts  merited  no  consideration.  Jack  knew 
well  that  he  ought  to  shoot  him  down  or  take  him 
prisoner.  He  knew  that  the  men  at  the  farmhouse 
were  against  him.  Nevertheless,  Brito's  words  bit. 

He  turned  in  his  saddle.  Alagwa  was  leaping  to 
his  side  and  to  her  he  handed  the  pistol.  "  Keep 
those  others  back,"  he  ordered  swiftly.  Then  he 
turned  to  face  his  foe. 

It  was  high  time.  Brito  was  coming  straight  for 
him.  Barely  he  had  time  to  spur  his  horse  aside 
and  avoid  the  shock.  As  he  leaped  he  heard  Brito 
shouting  to  the  Canadians  to  shoot. 

Jack  wheeled.  The  two  Canadians  had  gone  back 
into  the  farmhouse.  Now  they  were  rushing  out, 
muskets  in  hand.  Then  Alagwa's  pistol  settled  on 
the  foremost  and  he  heard  their  guns  crash  to  the 
ground. 

Jack  saw  red.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  the 
rage  to  kill  seized  him — a  fierce,  strong  longing  that 


328  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

shook  him  from  head  to  foot,  a  survival  from  the 
fierce,  bitter  primeval  days  when  foes  were  personal 
and  hate  was  undiluted.  He  snatched  at  his  blade 
and  drew  it  from  the  scabbard. 

"  You  d — d  cur ! "  he  rasped.  "  You  coward ! 
By  God!  You'll  pay  now."  Wild  as  he  was,  he 
was  also  cold  as  ice;  in  some  men  the  two  go  to- 
gether. 

Like  most  gentlemen  of  the  day  Jack  had  learned 
to  use  the  foils  and  even  to  some  extent  the  saber. 
But  all  his  training  had  been  with  buttons,  where 
to  be  touched  meant  merely  the  loss  of  a  point  on 
the  score.  Never  had  he  fought  a  duel  or  used  a 
sword  in  anger,  while  Brito  had  done  both.  To 
an  outsider  all  the  odds  would  have  seemed  to  be 
with  the  older  man. 

But  Jack  did  not  think  of  odds.  Like  many  men 
in  the  moment  of  extreme  peril,  he  felt  supreme  as- 
surance that  victory  was  to  be  his.  Before  him 
stretched  the  vision  of  long  years  of  life  and  hap- 
piness with  Alagwa  at  his  side.  The  coming  fight 
was  a  mere  incident,  not  a  catastrophe  that  was  to 
whelm  him  and  her  in  ruin.  Eagerly  he  spurred 
forward. 

The  two  horses  crashed,  rearing  and  biting,  and 
over  their  heads  the  swords  of  the  riders  clashed. 
Neither  spoke.  Neither  had  mind  to  speak  or  even 
to  think.  Both  fought  grimly,  terribly,  well  know- 
ing that  for  one  the  end  was  death.  Stroke  and 


329 

parry,  parry  and  stroke;  hot  and  swift  the  one 
followed  the  other. 

For  the  most  part  they  fought  at  close  quarters, 
but  now  and  again  the  horses  carried  them  apart. 
At  one  such  moment  Jack  glimpsed  at  the  farm- 
house door  and  its  group.  The  women  had  fled  in- 
side and  were  peering  from  the  windows ;  the  chil- 
dren had  disappeared  altogether ;  the  two  men,  dis- 
armed, stood  backed  against  the  wall,  under 
Alagwa's  pistol. 

The  crimson  sunset  had  faded  from  the  sky,  but 
the  half-moon  was  glowing  out,  changing  from  its 
idaylight  sheen  to  a  silver  glory  that  spilled  like 
rain  upon  the  shadowy  world.  By  its  gleam  the 
fight  went  on,  minute  after  minute. 

At  last  Jack  began  to  tire.  His  arms  drooped 
and  he  began  to  fight  on  the  defensive.  He  was 
scarcely  twenty-one ;  for  twenty-four  hours  he  had 
not  closed  his  eyes ;  for  four  days  he  had  had  little 
rest  and  little  food;  for  months  he  had  been  torn 
with  anxiety,  more  wearing  than  any  exertion. 
Brito  had  suffered,  too,  but  his  stress  had  been 
national  rather  than  personal.  His  muscles  were 
older  and  more  seasoned,  his  arms  more  sinewy. 
His  attack  showed  no  signs  of  slackening. 

Suddenly  his  eyes  gleamed.  He  had  noted  Jack's 
growing  weakness.  His  tongue  began  to  wag. 
"  You  fool !  "  he  hissed.  "  I  told  you  to  keep  out 


330  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

of  my  way.  This  is  the  end.  Tonight — to- 
night  " 

He  disengaged  and  thrust,  his  blade  singing 
within  a  hair's  breadth  of  Jack's  throat.  He  thrust 
again  and  the  keen  edge  hissed  through  Jack's 
sleeve.  Again  he  thrust,  but  this  time  Jack  met 
him  with  a  parry  that  sent  his  blade  wide. 

But  the  Englishman  did  not  pause.  His  on- 
slaught became  terrible.  His  sword  became  a  living 
flame,  circling,  writhing,  and  hissing  in  the  moon- 
light. Slowly  he  forced  the  American  backward. 
For  the  moment  no  living  man  could  have  held 
ground  against  his  fury. 

Then  suddenly,  when  Jack  thought  he  could  sus- 
tain no  more,  the  attack  slackened.  Flesh  and  blood 
could  not  maintain  its  fury.  Brito's  arm  flagged 
for  a  second,  perhaps  in  order  to  deceive;  then  he 
thrust  again,  upward,  for  the  throat.  Jack,  worn 
out,  took  a  desperate  chance.  He  did  not  parry 
with  his  blade;  instead  he  threw  up  his  hilt  and 
caught  Brito's  point  squarely  upon  the  guard.  A 
hair's  breadth  to  the  right  or  to  the  left  and  the 
other's  sword  would  have  pierced  his  throat.  But 
that  hair's  breadth  was  not  granted.  Brito's  blade 
stopped  short,  bent  almost  double,  and  snapped 
short.  Brito  himself  swayed  sideways,  losing  his 
balance  for  the  moment.  Before  he  could  recover 
Jack  rose  in  his  stirrups  and  brought  his  blaSe 
down  with  a  sweeping  stroke  against  the  bare, 


JACK    TELFAIR    AND    CAPTAIN    BKITO    SETTLE    THEIR    DISPUTE 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  331 

brown  neck  that  for  an  instant  lay  exposed.  Deep 
the  steel  cut.  Beneath  it  Brito  stiffened ;  his  sword 
dropped  from  his  hands;  blood  spouted  from  the 
severed  veins ;  he  swayed  and  toppled — dead. 

Jack  scarcely  saw  him  fall.  The  earth  swayed 
round  him  in  a  mighty  tourbillon;  moon  and  stars 
danced  in  the  sky  in  bewildering  convolutions;  the 
primeval  trees  beside  the  farmhouse  rocked,  cut- 
ting mighty  zigzags  across  the  milky-way.  Half- 
fainting  he  clung  to  his  saddle,  while  beneath  him 
the  bay  panted  and  wheezed,  worn  out  by  the 
stress  of  the  fight. 

Slowly  the  mists  cleared.  Out  of  them  shone 
Alagwa's  face,  white,  but  glad  with  a  great  glad- 
ness. Behind  her  the  two  men,  crouched  against 
the  house,  their  staring,  terror-filled  eyes  glistening 
in  the  moonlight. 

Jack's  fingers  wagged  toward  the  muskets  at  their 
feet.  "  Give  me  those  guns,"  he  breathed. 

Alagwa  obe}red  silently.  He  was  in  the  ascend- 
ant now.  He  was  the  warrior ;  she  the  squaw,  docile 
and  obedient.  Her  hour  would  come  later  and  she 
was  content  to  wait. 

The  men  shrank  back  as  Jack  took  the  guns, 
muttering  pleas  for  mercy.  The  women  came 
stumbling  from  the  house,  shrieking.  Jack  did  not 
heed  them.  He  fired  the  guns  into  the  air;  then 
smashed  them  against  the  corner  of  the  house.  Then 
he  turned  to  Alagwa  and  pointed  to  Brito's  horse. 


332  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

"Come,"  he  ordered.  "The  fight  is  done.  We 
must  go." 

Silently  Alagwa  mounted  and  silently  the  two 
rode  up  the  slope,  across  the  moon-drenched  woods 
upon  the  crest,  and  down  the  long  backward  trail 
to  where  the  British  and  Indian  power  had  been 
shattered. 

Jack  did  not  speak.  He  dared  not.  A  sudden 
wondering  panic  had  fallen  upon  him.  He  had  won 
his  bride  at  last.  He  had  won  her  with  his  heart; 
he  had  earned  her  with  his  sword.  He  had  shown 
her  the  thoughts  of  his  heart  at  dawn  beside  Tecum- 
seh's  fire;  he  had  shown  her  the  work  of  his  sword 
at  dusk  beside  the  farmhouse.  She  was  his ;  he  had 
only  to  put  out  his  hand  to  claim  her. 

But  he  did  not  dare.  Love  had  throned  her  im- 
measurably above  him.  Scarcely  he  dared  look  at 
her  as  she  rode  beside  him  in  the  white  moonlight, 
swaying  to  the  rhythm  of  her  horse's  pace,  mystic, 
strange — no  woodland  boy,  no  "  sweet,  gentle  lady," 
no  Indian  maid — but  all  df  these  at  once,  all  and 
more,  a  woman,  his  woman,  his  mate,  born  for  him, 
foreordained  for  him  since  the  first  dawn  that  had 
silvered  the  world.  Speechless  he  rode  on,  glancing 
at  her  from  sidelong  eyes. 

Alagwa,  too,  was  silent,  waiting.  This  was  her 
hour,  and  she  knew  it.  But  he  must  tell  her — tell 
her  what  she  already  knew.  Not  one  sweet  word  of 
the  telling  would  she  spare  him.  And  the  worse  he 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  333 

boggled  the  telling  the  more  she  would  love  him. 
Love — woman's  love — pardons  all  but  silence. 

At  last  Jack  found  his  tongue.  He  spoke  hur- 
riedly, gaspingly,  trying  to  hide  the  ferment  of 
his  soul.  "  The  war  here  is  over,"  he  said.  "  I  did 
not  stay  to  see  the  end  of  the  battle,  but  I  know 
the  British  power  in  the  west  is  shattered.  Most  of 
the  army  will  go  home.  And  we  will  go  to  Alabama. 
Father  is  waiting  to  welcome  you.  I  wrote  him  of 
you  and  he  wrote  me  that  if  I  did  not  bring  you  with 
me  I  might  stay  away  myself.  You  will  like  father. 
He  is  fierce,  like  yourself,  and  tender-hearted,  too — 
like  yourself.  Ah!  Yes!  You  will  like  him  and 
you  will  like  Alabama.  Alabama !  I  told  you  once 
what  the  word  meant.  It's  Creek :  a-la-ba-ma,  here 
we  rest.  There  we  will  rest.  Later  we  will  go  to 
France  to  see  your  inheritance — yours  no  more. 
Father  writes  that  Napoleon  has  confiscated  the 
Telfair  estates.  But  we  can  spare  them.  Cato 
will  go  with  us — father  writes  that  the  two  girls  he 
humbugged  have  husbands  of  their  own  and  will  not 
trouble  him,  and  that  the  third — the  one  he  is  fond 
of — is  waiting  for  him.  Rogers  and  Fantine  will 
make  a  match  of  it,  I  think.  He  says  now  that  he 
likes  to  hear  women's  talk.  Tecumseh — I  do  not 
know  what  his  fate  may  be.  But  he  swore  he  would 
win  or  leave  his  bones  on  the  field  today — and  he 
did  not  win.  I — I  have  read  that  letter ;  there  was 


334  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

nothing  in  it — nothing.  I  fainted  because  of  ray 
illness  and  not  because  of  anything  I  read." 

Jack's  voice  died.  He  had  run  through  his 
budget  of  news  without  broaching  the  subject  that 
lay  so  near  his  heart.  Alagwa  did  not  help  him. 
Silently  she  waited. 

The  night  was  wearing  on.  The  moon  was  sink- 
ing into  the  west.  Its  fairy  sheen  lingered  faintly 
on  the  trees  and  the  grass  and  dusty  road  that 
stretched  through  the  dew-wet  fields  like  a  band  of 
silver.  High  above,  the  multitudinous  stars  blazed 
in  the  firmament.  Silence  reigned;  no  cry  of  bird 
or  beast  sounded  through  the  night ;  even  the  sound 
of  the  horses'  hoofs  was  muffled  in  the  soft  dust. 
Like  spirits  the  two  rode  on  through  the  enchanted 
silence. 

Then,  in  slow  crescendo,  the  tinkle  of  a  far-off 
brook  blended  softly  into  the  beauty  of  the  night, 
blended  so  softly  that  its  music  seemed  the  melody 
of  tautened  heart-strings.  Slowly  it  grew  till  the 
stream  glanced  suddenly  out,  dancing  in  the  last 
rays  of  the  setting  moon.  Beyond  it  stretched  an 
open  space,  floored  with  fallen  leaves,  ringed  with  tall 
saplings,  silver  edged,  through  whose  leafless  tops 
the  stars  shone  faintly  down. 

The  path  to  the  ford  was  narrow.  The  two 
horses  crowded  into  it,  crushed  their  riders  to- 
gether, and  at  the  touch  Jack's  surcharged  heart 


THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH  335 

found  vent.  "  Alagwa !  Alagwa ! "  he  cried,  bro- 
kenly ;  and  again,  "  Alagwa !  " 

The  girl  swayed  toward  him*  Her  eyes,  wet  with 
unshed  tears,  gleamed  into  his  from  beneath  the 
dark  masses  of  her  tangled  hair.  Then,  in  a  mo- 
ment his  arms  were  round  her  and  her  head  lay 
heavy  on  his  breast.  The  horses  halted,  bending 
their  heads  to  the  water  that  rippled  about  their 
feet. 

Jack's  heart  kindled  in  the  swimming  darkness. 
His  pulse  beat  madly  in  his  throat.  "  Alagwa !  " 
he  gasped.  "  Alagwa !  Friend !  Comrade !  Wife ! 
I  love  you  so  !  I  love  you  so !  " 

"  And  I  love  you !  "  Like  a  great  organ  note  the 
girl's  voice  echoed  the  avowal.  "  Ah !  But  you 
know  it.  You  know  I  left  you  for  your  own  sake — 
for  your  own  sake " 

Closer  and  closer  Jack  drew  her.  The  flood- 
gates of  his  speech  were  broken  up.  Words,  un- 
dreamed before,  leaped  to  his  lips.  "  I  loved  you 
then,"  he  breathed.  "  I  have  loved  you  always. 
But  the  change  from  boy  to  man  came  too  sud- 
denly. I  did  not  know.  I  did  not  understand.  It 
took  time — time  and  the  touchstone  of  absence  and 
peril  and  agony — to  teach  me  that  I  was  a  fool  and 
mad  and  blind."  He  broke  off,  laughing  with 
wonder.  "  Fool  that  I  was  to  tell  you  that  I  was 
fond  of  you !  Fool  to  prate  of  friendship !  Fool 
to  match  stilted  periods  when  my  every  fibre  was 


336  THE  WARD  OF  TECUMSEH 

thrilling,  my  every  nerve  quivering  for  you  and  you 
alone.  I  knew  it  and  yet  I  knew  it  not.  I  did  not 
dream  that  it  was  love  that  thrilled  me.  I  did  not 
know  what  love  was.  But  now  I  know." 

The  horses  raised  their  heads,  whinnying. 
Slowly,  high-stepping,  they  splashed  through  the 
lambent  waters  of  the  ford  and  out  upon  the  broad 
bank. 

Jack  leaped  from  the  saddle  and  held  up  his  arms 
for  his  bride.  "  We  are  far  from  camp,"  he  said, 
"  and  it  is  dangerous  to  approach  it  from  this  direc- 
tion in  the  darkness.  The  horses  are  tired;  the 
night  is  mild — and  far  spent.  Come,  dear !  Come ! 
a-la-ba-ma;  here  we  rest." 

FINIS 


A     000128079     1 


